


Tinder and Flint

by thatviciousvixen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emperor Hux, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/pseuds/thatviciousvixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reeling from the defeat at Starkiller Base, Supreme Leader Snoke comes up with an idea to unite the First Order under a figurehead they can rally behind: Hux. Despite their obvious hatred Kylo is named his knight and protector and assigned to stay by his side and follow his orders. </p><p>Kylo Ren expects to hate being an acolyte of Emperor Brendol Hux the Second, ruler of the new Galactic Empire. He's surprised to find otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes Kylo dreams he’s dying.

The dreams always go roughly the same; there’s fire, and he’s trapped in some sort of room he can’t get out of. Sometimes the door is locked, though often there isn’t one to begin with. He tries not to inhale the smoke as the world grows hotter and hotter around him. The flames burn so hot that they’re blue rather than red. The world seems to tilt and shift as sluggish feet move far-too-slowly, looking for a door, a window, some way to escape the horror. Even the Force cannot help him. He scratches at the walls until his fingernails are bloody and raw, until his nails are torn and peeled right back to the bed. His lips are pressed tight together, trying to hold in his horror.

When he finally opens his mouth to scream ash fills his lungs and steals his voice. He is consumed.

*

The medbay is a steady rhythm of sound and movement, always consistent no matter the day of the week or the time. Certain noises can always be depended on; the soft beep of a heart monitor, the gentle hiss of an oxygen line across the room. Every now and then comes the slow clinking of mechanical feet across the floor followed by the shuffling of papers on a clipboard. Soft chimes alert nurses and droids to the needs of their patients, and the hush of soft voices drifts from behind privacy curtains. 

Kylo has always preferred the sounds of screams to the sounds of silence, even in the organized bustle of a place such as this.

As he opens his eyes he does a mental check of all of his components. All of his limbs are present, and a quick flutter of his fingers and toes tells him that they are in working order and there has been no damage to his spine or nervous system. He is breathing on his own without the use of an oxygen line. He is not floating in a bacta tank. While there is an ache just above his hip he can twist slightly to either side, confirming that his ribs aren’t broken and there has been no damage to his lungs or internal organs. All of these are Good Things.

Then he yawns, and his face feels as if it’s been set aflame. It’s an agony he’s never experienced before, because it’s tinged with the horror of defeat. That girl, that skinny little scavenger from Jakku, has bested him. With no formal training and no teacher she was able to cut down the master of the Knights of Ren and make off with the information he needed. A child. A tiny person no larger than the children he slaughtered so many years ago. He could scream.

So he does.

The sudden shouting brings round a flustered looking medical droid who beeps in alarm, zipping around him and trying to get close enough to find the source of his agony. He wishes he had his lightsaber in hand. He wants to slice it apart, to destroy it so it can’t even be recognized for what it once was. With no weapon available to him he lifts his hand, making a tight fist and jerking his arm upwards. The droid immediately shoots into the air, hovering three feet above the ground. Kylo snarls as he twists his fist to the left. Sparks begin to shower from various joints and panels, the droid making a satisfying series of alarmed beeps that warm Kylo to his very soul. Pleased with the damage done he opens his hand with a flick, sending the now useless chunk of metal flying into the far wall.

“Well, you’re awake and destroying essential equipment. You must be feeling better.”

Kylo turns with narrowed eyes, taking in the loathsome image of General Hux standing in the doorway. Of all the people he doesn’t want to see. That’s Hux’s talent though, being at exactly the wrong place at the right time. 

“Get out,” Kylo snarls, eyebrows knit. His hands itch to destroy. He can feel the call to let the Force reach through him, to grab Hux with invisible fingers and push and pull and tear until he’s red-faced and begging for mercy. If Hux hadn’t been appointed by Supreme Leader Snoke himself then he would have been dead months ago, a mere smear of red blood on the tip of Kylo’s boots and nothing more. “If you’ve come to gloat I promise you I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth. Leave me.”

Hux merely snorts, grabbing a chair and pulling it to the bedside. He sits, politely crossing his legs at the ankles. “While I would quite literally rather be anywhere other than here looking at your pathetic face, I’m under orders from Supreme Leader to see to your recovery. A recovery that won’t come soon enough if you break the droids assigned to healing you.”

Offering a wicked, wide-eyed smile, Kylo tilts his head slightly to the left. “Shall I break you then, instead?”

The only response he gets to his question is a bored look and a disdainful sniff. “Now then. I’ve discussed our next move with Supreme Leader and we’re to lay low and recuperate. Intel is being gathered from key planets to see the current public opinion on the Resistance. If we’re going to take down that rebel scum then we’re going to need to do it from all angles, gaining a political and public advantage could be crucial.”

Kylo can’t even pretend to listen. He lays back in the bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling and replaying the last few days over and over in his head. It all seems like a terrible dream that he wishes he could wake up from - losing the droid, losing both Resistance prisoners, Han Solo on the catwalk, the small girl in the snow. He wants to beat himself in the side like he did back on Starkiller Base. He deserves the pain and the blood, deserves nothing but agony for letting his master down. Gritting his teeth, he raises his fist before striking himself hard in the side.

Immediately Hux shoots to his feet, rushing forward to grab Kylo’s arm. “What are you doing, you fool?” he hisses, blue eyes flashing like cold steel. “You’re useless to Snoke if you’re not in one piece, stop being a damn child.”

“Let me go,” Kylo growls, that itching need returning to his fingertips. “Let me go or I’ll break your neck here and now and leave your body on the ground for someone else to clean up.”

Hux stands, eyes wide with disbelief. “You are insane, my god. Do you think your threats scare me, Ren? You were just bested by a twelve-year-old who’s never held a lightsaber in her life. A desert rat plucked up from Jakku with no talent, no skill, and no education. A skinny little girl who doesn’t even know who she is. Am I supposed to tremble before you?” 

The general steps forward, face twisted with hatred as he looms over the man in the bed. Slowly, ever so slowly he reached forward, covering Kylo’s wound with his hand and pressing down. The pain is immediate. As Kylo cries out Hux twists his palm to grind his hand against the tender flesh. Fire licks up his body as the wound reopens, slicking his side with blood and soaking the sheets below him.

Kylo wheezes out a laugh, eyes screwed shut. “So much for making sure I’m healing.”

“Oh I’ll make sure you heal,” Hux snarls. “I just want to remind you which of us is lying half dead in the medbay due to his failure.” He spits the last word like it’s venom from his tongue, something distasteful and foreign to him. Once he feels his point is made he steps back, plucking up a towel from a tray of supplies and washing his hand of Kylo’s blood. He smooths out his demeanor and his coat, reaching over to hit a call button. A chime sounds somewhere, followed by the urgent patter of shoes on a hard floor.

A medic walks in, face flushing in surprise. “General,” she gasps, standing at attention and offering a smart salute. It’s rare he’s seen in this part of the ship, he’s too composed to come down for every papercut or hangnail the others run to the medbay for. 

“Captain,” he says with a curt nod. “Lord Ren’s stitches have reopened, see he’s put back together.” As the woman rushes to do so he looks down at Kylo, offering a nasty smile. “I do hope you feel better soon, Lord Ren. Snoke wishes to see us both at the end of the week and I anticipate we’ll be on our feet for some time taking our lashes.” He laughs as Kylo makes a rude gesture in his direction, turning on his heel and seeing himself out. 

The medic fidgets slightly, twisting the hem of her top between her hands as she looks at the blood blossoming through carefully wrapped bandages. “L-Lord Ren, if you’ll please turn on your side…”

Kylo sullenly does as asked, scowling at the dark red privacy curtain. At least someone is still afraid of him.

*

Recovery is a slow process, even for Kylo Ren. The neat slice bisecting his face is easy enough to ignore, but the wound on his side has him off of his feet for some days. The damn thing likes to reopen at night as he’s tossing and turning and dreaming of his failures. Those are the nights when the crew and passengers of The Finalizer can hear his screaming through the hallways, can see how the lights throughout the ship flicker and burst as his emotions get the best of him.

When he’s awake he does his best to meditate and to plan out his retribution against the Resistance. By the time he can walk on his own he’s imagined a thousand ways to punish the traitor FN-2187, a thousand ways to make the scavenger Rey suffer for humiliating him. While he’s at it he’ll pin Poe Dameron to a board like a butterfly with its wings pulled off and melt down his droid for parts. He’s got so many plans for the future that he can hardly wait for it to come.

“Lord Ren.”

Hux.

He turns, trying to straighten his posture despite the pain that still tightens his abdomen and causes him to stand with a hunch. The general looks tired; there are dark shadows under his eyes that Kylo can’t remember being there before, and his gaze lacks the usual warm hatred that he often directs towards his adversary. Instead his eyes are dull, a stormy sky rather than the hard flint Kylo is used to. Kylo merely nods his head in greeting, folding his arms tight around his torso.

Hux stands at tight attention before him, arms stiff at his sides and chin lifted just so. Instead of meeting Kylo’s eyes he looks over his left shoulder and focuses on the wall behind him. “Glad to see you in working order,” he manages, though the words lack their usual bite. “We’ve been summoned to Supreme Leader’s chamber. I suggest you clean up and pull yourself together, we have ten minutes.” Without any further comment he turns, striding off down the hall. 

Kylo knows he should face this with more solemnity, but he can’t shake his excitement over his impending sense of purpose. It’s been too long. Too many hours spent uselessly in a bed, wondering over the battles to come. Too many hours with Hux sneering and gloating over him. He’s ready for action. Ready to run down the prey that evades them and sink his teeth into their warm, tender flesh. He is ready to hunt.

With the few minutes he has to spare he returns to his room, changing into fresh robes and scrubbing his face clean and pink. When he looks up he barely recognizes the man in the mirror. The wound the lightsaber gave him is still angry and red, scabbed over and starting to reveal the pink edges of the scar to come. It will be huge and obvious and he’ll carry it forever.

Good.

He takes one last look at his glaring reflection before leaving to meet his master.

Just outside of the chamber Hux stands with his hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid and eyes distant in thought. He doesn’t notice Kylo until the man draws right beside him, helmet tucked under his arm. 

“Ready?” he drawls, barely sparing a glance out of the corner of his eye. Kylo doesn’t bother to answer, instead putting his helmet on and sweeping inside.

Seeing Supreme Leader Snoke towering over them is a balm to Kylo’s soul. He’s been lost since killing Han Solo on Starkiller Base. The call from the Light has chewed at the edges of his mind with tireless strength, plaguing his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Now his master looms over him with a quiet confidence that he could bask in. Next to him Hux tenses up further, back impossible straight. He pities the man’s lack of faith in their leader.

“Kylo Ren.” Snoke’s voice is smooth, curious. “I am glad to see you recovered and on your feet.”

Kylo manages a deep bow despite how it aggravates the wound on his side. “Thank you, Master. I am ready and waiting your command.”

Snoke tilts his head slightly as he looks down, considering his knight. Without acknowledging the sentiment he turns to Hux. “General, your report?”

Hux somehow manages to stand even straighter as he looks up at the projection of their commander. “Supreme Leader. My spies have been strategically placed around Coruscant, Bespin and Naboo to gather information on the public opinions towards the Resistance, just as you requested.”

“And what have you found?”

“Opinions vary, my lord. Those that support the Order see it as a return to a political system that they’ve only dreamed of while growing up. Their parents served under the Galactic Empire and evaded eradication, and much like those of us raised in the Unknown Regions they were raised to understand in the true power of the Empire and its heroes.”

“And the Rebel sympathizers?”

Hux makes a noise of disgust low in his throat. “Over emotional, senile, naive. The cling to their memories of ‘Princess’ Leia and Luke Skywalker. One must admit that she is a powerful figurehead, a common cause for them to rally behind. Perhaps it’s important to have an icon for the people to believe in...”

Snoke leans forward on his throne, smirking. “It sounds like you’ve considered my suggestion.”

Hux bows deep, cutting an admittedly fine figure in his sharp uniform and neat hair. “My pleasure is to serve you, Supreme Leader. If it is your wish then I shall see it done.”

Something stirs low in Kylo’s gut at the exchange. It would be foolish to assume that Hux doesn’t have secrets, that he and Snoke don’t share information that Kylo is not privy to. Still, it doesn’t thrill him to have the fact confirmed. He resists the urge to chew his lip, body curving slightly as his aching wounds seem to increase the gravity of the world around him. He is so, so tired.

“Kylo Ren.”

Kylo jerks to attention, ashamed of his lapse in decorum. He must not seem weak in front of his master, not if he is to continue to be his strong and unyielding right hand. “Sir?”

Snoke sits back, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “General Hux and I have reached an agreement as to how the First Order must proceed if we wish to win this war. We have decided that we need a rallying point. We need the support every city in the Galaxy so that we may diminish the Resistance’s access to materials and equipment.”

Though he is wise enough not to show it, Kylo doesn’t see where this conversation is going. He merely nods, watching Snoke with wide eyes.

Snoke glances at Hux before looking back to Kylo. “We need an emperor, child.”

Immediately Kylo thinks of the great emperors past; of Palpatine, of Roan Fel and Darth Krayt. He looks up, confusion clouding his mind as he tries to put the pieces together. “You wish to bring back the ways of the old Empire then, my lord? Will you take the helm?”

The laughter that fills the chamber sends a chill down his spine. He shifts his balance from one foot to another, body protesting at how long it’s been required to stand today; he’s only just left the medbay, he’s still weary. Standing straight is a chore, and while he knows he’s spent his entire life training to let pain strengthen him he just can’t seem to find the energy. He needs rest. “My lord?”

“No child, I will not take the mantle. Look beside you, there is the emperor you serve.”

The chill from before spreads from his spine to the rest of his body at an alarming speed. Kylo turns, meeting the cold, mirthless eyes of Hux. The laughter and egoism he expects to find are mysteriously not there. Hux merely stares with an emotionless gaze, as if daring Kylo to speak out of turn. 

Snoke resumes his speech and both heads snap forward to listen. “The General is exactly what we need in a figurehead. He was raised by a devoted servant of the Empire, raised to know the stories of bravery and justice. He rose through the ranks on his own merit and is a clever tactician and bold leader. What’s more, he is young, able bodied and handsome. His is the face to put at the forefront of our new Order.”

“Thank you, Supreme Leader.” Hux’s words are flat, his voice dead. Kylo spares a curious glance before turning back to Snoke. 

“And where shall I serve you, master? Let me resume the hunt for Luke Skywalker. The scavenger must be with him by now, let me slay them both with one blow.”

“No.”

Kylo frowns, stomach turning. “Master?”

“You are needed here, my child. Two Jedi will not be strong enough to take down the First Order, not when we’ve created a unified front for the people to rally behind. They are the least of my concerns. I wish for you to stay here, to work with Hux as his knight and advisor. Let him command you, be his strong right hand and his weapon as you have been mine.”

A cry bubbles up in Kylo’s throat, he struggles to beat it down. “Please master,” he begs, wide eyed and panicked. “Please, let me prove to you that I can end the Jedi once and for all. Let me do your work to slaughter any who might stand against us. Please, I won’t fail you again.”

Snoke leans in, peering at him curiously. “This is not about failure, child. This is about patience. Not all battles can be won on the field with bloodshed. Some must be carefully played, like a game of chess. You must learn strategy, and Hux will show you the way.” He raises an eyebrow. “Can you do this?”

Kylo bows his head, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable rage. He swallows hard, giving a small nod. “Yes, master.”

“Good. Then go, both of you. Work together, be seen. Make it grand so that the resistance fighters themselves are warmed by the glow of our glorious First Order. Hux, report to me weekly with any intelligence you’ve gathered.”

Hux gives another bow, turning and walking from the room. Kylo wants to stay behind. He wants to argue that he will be better used elsewhere, that Hux is a fool and a useless one at that, but Snoke’s projection flickers and then is gone. Immediately Kylo’s hand goes to his saber, fingers twitching as he follows Hux out.

“You.”

He joins Hux in an empty hallway to find him leaning against the wall, body sagging as if he can’t support his own weight. Hux glances over before shaking his head and looking off in the distance. “Not now, Ren. Go, leave me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to begin planning this whole performance.”

His words are barely out before Kylo’s lightsaber is on and carving a deep groove into the wall next to Hux. 

“You knew,” Kylo hisses. “You knew this was coming and didn’t think me important enough to know.”

The gaze Hux turns on him is dangerous, unimpressed. “I didn’t know. Supreme Leader mentioned the idea but made no move to enact it until today. I thought him merely running ideas past me. Foolish, in hindsight, but true nonetheless. He gave me the option to say no, but you and I both know that isn’t really a choice when it comes to your master.”

All Kylo can see are flashes of red clouding the edges of his vision, his blood boiling hot within him. Without realizing he deactivates his weapon and tosses it away, choosing instead to use his fists. The first blow, delivered directly to Hux’s gut, is so satisfying that he could weep. The general doubles over and clutches his stomach only to find himself pulled up by his hair as Kylo lands another hit against his mouth. The soft pink flesh of his bottom lip splits, staining his teeth with violent red.

“Come now, Kylo,” he sneers, showing off his bloody mouth. “Is this any way to treat your emperor?”

Kylo roars, grabbing the front of Hux’s shirt and throwing him easily to the ground. He drops to straddle his hips, holding him down and getting both hands around his throat. He’s too angry to use the Force, he needs to feel flesh and blood and bone under his skin.

With clenched teeth he leans in, hissing his words like a frightened animal. “I will never serve you.”

Hux laughs, delirious and pained. With a swift movement he knees Kylo in the groin, rolling them over before falling off of Kylo and on to his side. With a shaking hand he wipes at his mouth, smearing the blood across his chin and along his jaw.

“And I’ll never trust you. Use you as my right hand? Never,” he spits, eyes flashing. “But your master has commanded it, so we had better learn to fake it well enough to fool him.” With a grunt Hux rises to his feet, pulling a red handkerchief from his pocket and using it to wipe his face. “I don’t want this any more than you do, you ignorant fool. I want my control room and my troops, not a throne and a fake crown. And I certainly don’t want a wild animal at my side, always looking for the best to ribs to plunge his knife between.”

With a sigh Hux finishes cleaning his face, gently prodding at his split lip with his tongue. He snorts, throwing his bloody kerchief on Kylo. “The coronation is next week, and you _will_ swear your allegiance to me before all of Coruscant. Now clean yourself up.” He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “That’s an order from your emperor.”

Before Kylo can stand to attack he is gone, down the hall and disappearing around the corner.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days after his brawl with Hux, Kylo returns to his room to find a package waiting on the bed. It’s nothing fancy, though it does bear the common aesthetic of the First Order. The box is black and tied shut with white string and the red wax seal of the Order holding everything together. With a curious look he tugs the string up to break the seal, tearing everything away and opening the box.

Inside is a new set of robes, carefully crafted and made of fine fabrics he’s never felt the like of before. The cut and style follow much of what he already wears; an undershirt, breeches, tunic and robe are all carefully folded and placed within layers of tissue, waiting to be carefully unpacked. Judging from their size and custom length they seem quite specifically made for him. Everything is _nicer_ than what he’s used to. The pants are carefully tailored and long enough for his legs without him having to let the hems out on his own after everyone is asleep. The cloak is still quite sturdy and thick, but it’s carefully finished so the edges won’t snag and unravel. The tunic is a fine thing made of something stiff but soft, carefully pressed. On the left breast someone has stitched in the symbol of the First Order.

As he’s holding up the cloak to examine a small scrap of paper falls out of the folds, fluttering to the ground. With a curious hum Kylo lays the cloak on the bed and bends to retrieve it.

_Ren,_

_If we are to be the living symbols of the First Order then we must look the part. This is to be your uniform for the coronation on Primeday. Someone will arrive to dress you one hour beforehand. You will not kill or harm them in any way, no matter what your mood._

_-Hux_

Kylo immediately hates the fine clothing scattered across his bed. With trembling hands he packs them back into the box, kicking it all under his bed to be forgotten until a later time.

Primeday. Five days until he must kneel before that simpering excuse for a general and pretend to care if he lives or dies. For a moment Kylo lets himself think of scenarios that would be much more pleasing, of skewering Hux on his lightsaber in front of the entire galaxy or choking him to death and dropping his body down a garbage chute where it belongs. With a sigh he sinks down to sit on the edge of his bed. He knows Leader Snoke is all knowing and wise, but he can’t help but feel like his foot is hovering over a trap and he ought to withdraw. 

He’s running out of time. Out of freedom. 

That fact is solidified a few hours later when there’s a knock at his door and he opens it to reveal Hux himself. The general stands in the doorway with his arms folded, still dressed in his officer’s uniform but slightly more casual in his stance and manner. Kylo blocks the entry with his body, scowling.

“What do you want?”

Hux merely sighs, rolling his eyes skyward. “To talk. You’re capable of holding conversations, I assume? Or is it all grit teeth and choking people?”

“I’ve no desire to talk to you,” Kylo snarls, arching an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine what we could possible have to say to each other.”

That earns him a Look, a sort of indignant surprise. “Do you realize we have a precious few days left before we have to stand before the galaxy and pretend to - at the very least - trust each other? You’re not doing this as a favor to me or some bizarre hobby, Leader Snoke has commanded it of you. So you’d better get over yourself and quickly, because we’re running out of time.”

While he hates to admit it, Kylo knows Hux is right. He tightens his jaw and steps aside to let the general in. “And what, this is you coming to make peace?”

“Gods no,” Hux laughs, a cold, joyless sound as he sits on the edge of Kylo’s bed and crosses his legs at the ankle. “Peace is the last thing I’d ever want with you. This is me coming to make sure we can at least pretend to get along for the sake of the show.” 

Kylo sits at his small table, turning his chair to better face the man sitting across the room. It’s odd seeing Hux in his overly simple chambers - he imagines the General must have a room full of fine and expensive things, novelties and unnecessary comforts. Kylo has never been one for excess. He has the necessities: a bed, a table and two chairs, a nightstand. Otherwise it’s just his clothing, toiletries and books, the things he needs to keep his mind sharp and do the bare minimum to tend to his health.

“It’s like you said, general,” he says coolly. “My master has commanded it of me, so it will be done.”

Aggravation flashes across Hux’s face as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I forgot I’m talking to someone with the critical thinking skills of a toddler, so let me be plain. The moment word gets out about the coronation I’m going to have a big red target on my back that half the galaxy is going to be aiming for, rebels and members of our Order alike. I need to know that you’re going to use your silly space magic to stop any blasters that might fire at me.” He sits up straight, pursing his lips. “And in return I’ll give you as much freedom as I can muster for you to go after the Jedi girl and Luke Skywalker. Never let it be said that I’m not a fair man.”

Kylo tilts his head, eyes narrow. “Snoke told me I wasn’t to chase after them.”

“Snoke told you that you’re to obey my command,” Hux points out. “And if I command you to find them, then that’s what you’re to do.”

“This feels like a trap.”

Hux sighs, standing and pacing the small room. “I don’t have the energy for traps, Ren. Between you and I, I’ve always dreamt of a day where I might have the highest position of power among the Order. Now it’s come and I’m no better than a puppet. So now my goal is to stay alive and continue running the Order to the best of my abilities as if nothing’s changed. And while I hate to say it, I’m going to need your help and protection.”

The last few sentences glance off of Kylo; he’s too busy thinking over the proposal. He’s going to have his chance to set things right, to really finish what his grandfather started. A sort of raw excitement sparks up low in his belly as he turns the thought in his head over and over. It drives him to his feet as he moves forward to meet Hux in the center of the room.

“Fine. You have my word. I’ll protect you from whatever threats you imagine are coming if you give me the freedom to find Skywalker and the girl.”

Hux eyes him, looking for some sort of trap in Kylo’s words. When he finds none he sighs and gives a curt nod. “Very well then. I’m going to try very hard to not have to look at your face until Primeday, then. Lord knows I’ll be seeing enough of you after. Goodnight, Lord Ren.” He tucks his hands in his pockets and offers no other goodbye as he strolls out, the doors sliding shut behind him.

Kylo stands in silence, the weight of the future weighing heavy on his mind. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to search for the Jedi, but the chance is coming. He’s going to finish what he started. 

*

Like an avalanche racing down a hill the coronation comes at a speed Kylo can’t control. All too soon it’s Primeday and a small knock sounds at the door of his chamber followed by a soft “Lord Ren?” Kylo doesn’t recognize the voice, and it takes him a moment to remember that Hux’s note promised a dresser for the ceremony. With a sigh he drags himself out of bed, pulling on loose pants and walking over to open the door. He doesn’t bother with the helmet as much these days. Let them see his face, his scars. The real Kylo Ren is more of a monster now than the image he’d built for himself ever was. The doors open to reveal a small man with a young face and nervous eyes. Blond hair is combed neatly back and his uniform is well-fitted and pressed. Kylo allows himself a moment to appreciate his form before looking back up and forcing a glare. “What?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, Lord Ren,” he stammers, voice soft. “I’m here on the General’s orders to help you prepare for the coronation. A transport ship will arrive in two hours to take you to the site and I thought you might like a bit more time so you wouldn’t have to rush…” He’s stuttering, tripping over his words in an attempt to appease the man before him. With a smirk Kylo steps aside and waves the man in.

He ends up being oddly soothed by the whole process. There’s something calming about sitting in a chair and letting someone tend to him, combing his hair and shaving his face and rubbing sweet smelling oils into his hands and shoulders. He utilizes his current state of calm to meditate, centering himself and mentally preparing for the day ahead. For what he is going to have to do. By the time he’s ready to dress he’s oddly at peace and eager to get the whole ordeal over with. 

“There we are,” says the soft spoken man, giving a little smile as he artfully adjusts a curl. Kylo looks at him curiously. It’s been so long since he’s been seen as anything other than a mask, it’s odd to have someone this close to his true self and to have them react with a minimal amount of fear. “You’re ready. Is there anything else I can do for you, Lord Ren?”

For a sliver of a moment Kylo debates giving him a list of things he’d rather have him do, but no. There are places to be. His _emperor_ awaits. “No, that’s all. Leave me.” With a bow and a fleeting smile the man is gone. Kylo sighs and lifts the box that he’d shoved under his bed days ago, pulling out his new uniform. As he peels away his clothes and changes into the finer ones he has to stop to admire the quality of the clothing once more. Everything seems to fit perfectly, down to the delicate stitches at the inside of his wrists. The sleeves are the perfect length, the robes long but not so long that he trips over them. His cloak is made to keep him warm but does not feel particularly cumbersome or coarse. 

Someone has put quite a bit of thought into all of this, he can only imagine what Hux is being forced to wear. Time to find out. He lifts his lightsaber from it’s spot on his table, hooking it in its scabbard and heading towards the transport bay.

As he walks he can’t help but notice the glances from the troopers and officers out and about on business. His face has been so rarely seen, and beyond the newness he has that damned scar that the scavenger girl gave him after the Resistance attack on Starkiller Base. He feels naked despite the layers of clothing covering his body. Normally it’s easy to ignore the looks and the opinions of people who matter little in the grand scheme of things, but today he becomes someone else. It’s like he’s wearing a new skin that doesn’t quite fit no matter how he tugs at it.

The hanger is a bustle of activity as people prepare to depart for Coruscant. Only those needed to maintain operations of the Finalizer are to stay behind, the rest required to attend the coronation and show their allegiance to the new emperor. With a sigh he adjusts his cloak and walks to the ship meant to carry he and Hux to the ceremony. As he enters people scatter to move out of his way, some even bowing their heads as he passes. He ignores them and strides to the front of the ship.

His first view of Hux is like a blow to the chest, crushing and overwhelming. It leaves him dazed, almost to the point where he must reach out and brace himself against something.

The General - soon to be emperor - stands at the head of the transport ship, having a hushed conversation with the pilot as preparations are made. It seems that Kylo isn’t the only one with a new costume. Hux stands regally in a his usual black uniform, though somehow everything is sharper and more impressive. The fabric is a deeper black, his belt polished to a higher shine, and everywhere are small additions that add to the overall appeal and command of his person. He wears his medals and designations for the first time since Kylo’s met him, shining things of silver, gold and red pinned to his breast. Kylo hadn’t realized he had so many. Swept off of Hux’s left shoulder and draped over the right is a deep black cape with a lining of blood red, held together by a hair thin silver chain that catches the light and glimmers like a spider web. He wears his usual black leather gloves and boots, although they seem newer, finer.

Kylo can’t help but think, with no small amount of dismay, that he looks beautiful.

He also looks impossible tired. Kylo had noticed it before while standing outside of Snoke’s chambers, but now he can’t imagine how anyone could miss it. His usually pale skin is almost blue in its pallor, and the shadows under his eyes make him look ill. For a moment Kylo is tempted to reach out with the Force and probe his thoughts - he desires more than anything to know where this weariness has come from. He keeps it to himself though, letting his hands hang at his sides. 

“General Hux,” Kylo calls, catching his attention. He motions to his own uniform, eyes cold. “Is this to your liking?”

Hux finishes his conversation with the pilot before turning and letting his eyes sweep over Kylo. He tilts his head to one side then the other before giving a small nod. “Corporal Flynn did a decent enough job of putting you together.” There is a barely concealed disdain in his voice that he somehow manages to choke down. “You look almost dashing, Ren. Do your best not to torment or terrorize anyone and you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand.” He sighs, adjusting his cape so it remains artfully draped over one shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”

The trip down to the planet goes by with relative ease. The atmosphere is good for flying and the weather is mild, so they make the trip in no great amount of time. The coronation is to take place in a carefully chosen area of the city, a great square with a grand stage in front and soaring buildings blocking it in on all sides. The setup should allow noise to carry quite far, letting all of Coruscant know how people cheer for their new sovereign. From his seat next to Kylo Hux draws a deep breath, glancing over. “Ready?” That look is back, like Hux barely has enough energy to stay on his feet let alone be named emperor of the Galactic Empire. Kylo merely nods. He knows his role. He knows how he’s meant to look and speak and act, as if he owes his life and livelihood to Hux and not the Leader who has made this all possible. He can do this for Snoke.

The shuttle lands and the doors open to the near-deafening cheers of the crowd outside. It’s amazing to see the way Hux immediately schools his features, pasting on an easy smile and smoothing down his coat before stepping outside. Kylo flanks him, walking behind and just to his right with his hand ever on his saber hilt. For a moment he has to fight the urge to be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people there; the Order has done well to recruit a large enough crowd of supporters to create a scene, and intermingled are people on the fence whom they hope to win over with the pomp and show. They’re all packed into the square like sardines, though a long, narrow path has been roped off and littered with what appears to be flower petals at they’re led from the shuttle to the stage.

A row of old men Kylo doesn’t recognize sit on the stage in ornate chairs, each holding some sort of offering in their hands and waiting patiently for their place in the ceremony. The last holds what appears to be a circlet of white gold, gleaming and polished but without any stones or filigree or anything that might make it more ostentatious. Kylo wonders if Hux approved the design himself, or if it was ordered for him so as to not facilitate any delusions of grandeur. Drawing his attention away, he casts his mind out over the group of revelers.

_-so handsome in his-_

_-never thought I’d see the day-_

_-like his father-_

_-if I can get a clean shot-_

Kylo’s blood turns to ice in his veins. It’s more than the words he hears, it’s the emotion he can feel behind it; utter disdain, a grim determination to complete what must be done. He desperately reaches out for the wisp of thought but in such a large crowd it’s almost impossible to track. As his heart hammers in his chest he picks up speed, stepping closer until he can lean in to whisper in Hux’s ear.

“We need to go,” he murmurs urgently. “Someone in the crowd intends to murder you.”

Hux’s smile barely flickers before he’s back to waving graciously at the crowd, reaching out to let those below him touch his gloved hand. When he talks it’s out of the side of his mouth, eyes never leaving his idolaters. “Where are they?”

Kylo makes a frustrated sound. He’s not good at this, keeping up a charade and playing nice when there’s work to be done. “I’m not sure. The crowds too big, they could be anywhere.”

They’ve reached the stage. Hux allows himself a moment to face Kylo, offering a tight-lipped smile. “It’s too late to turn back now. Let’s just hope they’re a piss poor shot, shall we?” With a deep breath he ascends the stairs to his fate.

The ceremony itself is easy to get through. Most of it is just Kylo standing off to the side and looking grim, trying to focus on Hux and avoid the urge to glare down at the crowd and find the conspirator. He manages to keep his eyes on the general - emperor - and occasionally let his mind wander out to test the edges of the gathered mass. All too soon that gleaming golden circlet is placed on Hux’s brow, and the newly named ruler is turning to him with a determined gaze. “Lord Ren.” 

Teeth clenched and feet heavy, Kylo manages to drag himself forward. This is the moment he’s dreaded above all else. The moment Hux truly gains the upper hand over him. He can taste bile rising in the back of his throat as he sinks to one knee, bowing his head.

And then he feels it. 

The bitter sharp tang of anxiety rises in his throat, quickly followed by the alarmed shout of voices somewhere near the front of the crowd. Kylo acts on instinct, reaching up to grab Hux firmly by the shoulders and pull him down to his level. He twists to the side, curling his kneeling body around Hux just as the sound of a blaster goes off behind him. Rather than where Hux stood moments before the blast strikes Kylo solidly in the back of his left bicep. 

“Ren.” Kylo opens his eyes to see Hux looking up at him in a horrified sort of wonder, but there’s no time to dwell on it. He stands and reaches out with all the power the Force allows, stopping the next shot mid-air and the man who fired it in his tracks.

A gasp and ripple of noise breaks out along the crowd as troopers storm the square and grab the would-be assassin. The frozen blaster beam radiates and pulses, frozen mere feet from the stage, held in place by Kylo Ren’s extended hand and nothing else. He knows that in the absence of the Jedi and the banishment of the Empire to the Unknown they have never seen anything like this. Anything like the true power of the Force, wielded by someone who understands it and respects it. He wants to gloat. He resists. With a quick glance over his shoulder he checks the blast’s current trajectory before letting it go, watching as it bursts into a shower of sparks against a support beam. Immediate danger handled, he turns to Hux.

“Are you alright?”

For his part Hux is already on his feet, looking unperturbed as he dusts off his pants. “Fine, thank you,” he murmurs, avoiding Kylo’s gaze. He glances his newly-named Knight over, eyes landing on his arm. “You’re bleeding,” he says quickly, reaching out to close his hands tightly around the wound in an attempt to stop the flow. “Come, we need to return to the Finalizer and have you patched back up.”

Kylo glances around the crowd, taking in the wonder on everyone’s faces as their new Emperor deigns it important enough to bloody his hands like a common medic. “Careful,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to Hux’s face. “You’re an emperor now.”

Hux scowls, looking up to meet Kylo’s eyes as he tightens his grip on his bicep. “And your emperor commands you to take him back to the Finalizer so your arm can be fixed.” He snorts, tugging Kylo towards the ship. “I’ve had enough of this circus for one day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried finishing this bad boy and editing despite a fever and the brain wigglies, so I'm sorry for any typos I missed!
> 
> [Tumblr here!](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

After the noise and fervor of the crowd on Coruscant the med bay is practically an oasis of calm and silence for Kylo. It’s the first time he’s ever been happy to lie on the stiff sheets and bask in the acrid scent of bacta and sanitizer. His arm feels lovely and numb, thanks to whatever injection of anesthetic the medics gave him before stitching him up. The light above him flickers every few minutes, creating a soft buzzing sound that fills his head with a wonderful sort of white noise. His mind is full of cotton, light and relaxed and loose for the first time in a long while. 

And then Hux walks in.

He’s got this bizarre look on his face as he studies Kylo, a strange sort of expression that might mean he actually cares about what has happened to his newly designated Knight. That couldn't possibly be right, though. They've hated each other for far too long, there's no going back on that now. Kylo is a tool to Hux just as he is to everyone else. A means to an end. 

Pulling a chair over, Hux sits and crosses his legs. “And how is my knight feeling?”

Kylo slowly turns to look at him, quirking an eyebrow. “Fine. The blaster barely grazed me, there's really no need for all this formality.”

Hux looks slightly incredulous, leaning forward. “Ren, it hit you directly in the back of the arm. I don't know what constitutes as a ‘graze’ to you but that certainly wasn't one.”

“Still,” Kylo insists, face shaping into its usual scowl. “I’ve experienced pain far worse in my trainings alone. I don’t really know why I need to be held prisoner here, when I tried to leave they said they were under direct orders from you to keep me for the day.”

At that Hux laughs, sitting back and folding his arms. “Good, I was afraid they hadn’t heard me over all the excitement when we arrived. You haven’t had a single day’s rest in quite some time, it won’t kill you to be off of your feet for a few hours.” 

This is puzzling. Kylo can’t imagine why Hux might care whether or not he gets any rest, especially when there’s work to be done. Hux himself looks like he’s gotten little sleep as of late anyway. Extending his arm and flexing it gently, Kylo offers a shrug. “Seems like it’s healing fine. I’m going back to my own quarters.” He sits up, flinging back the blanket that has been covering him and standing on bare feet. 

“Ren.”

Kylo looks over his shoulder, biting back a sigh. His protests is cut off when he sees Hux standing on the opposite side of the medbay cot, hands smoothing the sheets out restlessly. When he looks up his cold blue eyes are warmer than Kylo’s ever seen.

“I just...thank you,” he says slowly, cheeks flushed pink. “You saved my life and we haven’t even been at this two weeks. I need you to know that isn’t something I’ve taken for granted.”

Kylo looks away, uncomfortable with the sincerity of his words. “I was doing my job.”

“It’s not like you cleaned a floor particularly well or did an exemplary job fixing a ship,” Hux snaps. “As far as I’m concerned this is a bit more important.”

Kylo turns, forcing himself to meet Hux’s eyes. He holds his gaze for a moment before bowing ever so slightly, hand over his heart. “Your highness.” Before he himself can decide if that was sarcasm or sincerity he sweeps past the emperor, running to hide in his chambers where no one can see the battling emotions cross his face.

*

“I can’t imagine what you could possibly need to show me in here that’s more important than sleep.”

It’s midnight, and other than the occasional marching of Stormtroopers on patrol the Finalizer is silent. Kylo likes this time of night best; there are few people out and about to get in his way, and there’s an eerie sort of calm that settles into every corner of the ship as most of the crew sleeps. He often finds himself here in the training room working on his saber techniques or going against droids to practice his hand-to-hand skills. Having a companion is new, but something’s been on his mind since the attack at the coronation. A dogged knowledge that he’s actually begun to _care_ if Hux lives or dies beyond his Master’s orders to protect him. And if that is the case then certain steps need to be taken.

He turns to look at Hux, as pristine as ever in his uniform although weariness continues to snag and fray at his edges. Kylo shakes his head, folding his arms. “I thought I told you to wear something comfortable?”

“And I couldn’t think of a single reason why I would need to, so here we are,” Hux says, lips pursed. “Do you mind telling me what this is all about?”

Kylo himself is dressed in light clothing, a simple black undershirt and pants that are thin and easy enough to move in. He’s barefoot, free of gloves and his cloak, free of most of the pieces of clothing that make him look so imposing. He’d feel naked if he didn’t know he could murder half the ship with a sweep of his hand.

Reaching up to tie his hair back, he takes a few steps closer to Hux. “I need to make sure you know how to defend yourself. Not everyone is going to come at you with blasters, if an assailant gets close enough I have to know you can hold them off until I can intervene.”

Hux shoots him a look like he’s gone mad. “Ren. You are aware I earned top marks at the Academy in combat and marksmanship, aren’t you? I’ve gone through your records, I’d assumed you’d only done the same with mine.”

“Of course I have.” Kylo shrugs dismissively, as if the fact matters little. “But when’s the last time you saw real combat? You do your work from a bridge, I’m sure you’ve gotten rusty.”

Hux draws up to his full height, eyebrows knit. “So you’re just going to insult me until I run at you, is that it? I’m tired, Ren. It’s been a long few weeks of this nonsense and I’d like to get what little sleep I can grab before I’m required to be up and imperial again. Lord knows I’ll have to kiss a baby or cut the ribbon of a new shopping mall in the morning, plenty of demands for the man at the top. So if you’re quite done diminishing my hard work and training then I’ll take my leave-”

“Hux!” Kylo also stands up taller, putting himself at the advantage. “If you’re done feeling sorry for yourself? It will only be so long that you have to keep up this charade before you’ll be back commanding your men. You’ll be a target not only for your status as emperor but also because you’re the worst thing to happen to the resistance and they know it. At some point you’ll come up with some other ingenious weapon that will cripple them. They’ve seen what you can do, you destroyed three planets before they took down your base. They’re going to be eager to remove you from the picture.” He tries to speak slowly, as if talking to a child. This isn’t about stroking Hux’s ego. It’s common sense.

Hux is silent for a moment before offering a small grin. “You think my ideas are ingenious?”

“Good, you’ve utterly missed the point,” Kylo scowls. “Now take off your jacket and meet me on the mat.”

It takes a few moments for Hux to move and begin to do as instructed. Kylo doesn’t bother to stay and oversee, instead heading to the practice mat and stretching out his over-long limbs. It’s been awhile since he’s sparred with a human partner - most of the officers are afraid to speak to him, let alone fight him. While he’s darkly pleased at the fact it is nice to have a partner who can truly challenge him.

Not that he expects to be challenged by Hux, who is now shirtless and standing before him, hands on his hips. “Well? What now?”

It’s all Kylo can do not to bark out a laugh. “Not used to starting fights?”

“Not starting them, no,” Hux replies. “People made plenty of attempts to start them with me at the Academy and regretted it immediately and for a long time after. There’s wisdom in letting someone else make the first move.”

Kylo considers this, making a thoughtful noise. Without warning he strikes out, dropping low and sweeping his leg out in an attempt to get Hux’s feet out from under him. He’s genuinely surprised when Hux hops back lightly, landing just out of reach. “And what’s that, your highness?”

“Well, for one you get the first look at your opponent’s fighting style,” he laughs. “Your first instinct was to get me on my back. Naughty, Lord Ren.”

When Kylo steps forward Hux steps back and to the left, dancing around his knight every time he tries to advance. “Their back is exactly where you want your opponent,” Kylo points out with a grin. “Gives you access to all the soft, delicate parts that will kill them fastest.” He makes another move forward, grinning as Hux once again moves to the left. A few more steps and he’s got Hux in the corner of the room with no way past. “What now, emperor?”

“Now I would expect my knight to stab the bastard with his bloody great lightsaber and save me the trouble of dirtying my clothes,” Hux says blandly. He starts as Kylo grabs him by the arm and tosses him easily back towards the middle of the mat, landing flat on his back. “You’re supposed to prevent me getting hurt, you ass. Not hurt me yourself.”

Kylo strides over, offering his hand to pull Hux to his feet. “Then try harder,” he says, feigning boredom. The best way to get to Hux is through his pride. “You could at least make it a little difficult for me.”

“Oh you are a bastard,” Hux mutters under his breath. This time he doesn’t wait for Kylo to make the first move. With the full weight of his body he surges forward, getting low and tackling Kylo mid-thigh. The momentum carries them both backwards and to the ground, their bodies rolling as they fight for dominance. Soon Kylo triumphs, straddling Hux’s hips and pinning his wrists to the mat.

“Good thing you have me to protect you,” Kylo snorts. “You’re like a kitten.”

Hux’s eyes widen with indignation. “Is that any way to talk to your emperor?”

“It is when I’m coming to the realization that training is going to need to take place regularly if you’re to learn proper defense,” Kylo shoots back, getting back up. “Again.”

When there’s no immediate response Kylo looks down at Hux, who’s splayed on the mat and staring up at the ceiling. “You know,” he muses, expression thoughtful. “If I’m to get into any...altercations, I doubt they’ll start with me standing in front of my assailant waiting for them to strike.” He reaches out quickly, grabbing Kylo’s ankle and yanking him off of his feet. As soon as his knight is on his back Hux springs into action, sitting on his thighs and getting ahold of thin, delicate wrists. “You’re deceptively bony, has anyone ever told you that?”

“You’re not the first one to make jabs at the way I look,” Kylo says, laughing mirthlessly. He swings his legs up, wrapping his thighs around Hux’s torso and pulling down, jerking himself into a sitting position at the same time. Hux is once more on his back, this time with his legs splayed awkwardly on either side of Kylo’s hips and Kylo’s thighs wrapped firmly around his torso.

“Well this is a strange position,” he muses.

Kylo immediately lets him go, moving as far away as he can without making it obvious that he’s flustered. “Try to keep your mind on the exercise.” The sparring continues for some time, Hux warming up to the activity as the night progresses. The longer they work at it the better he gets; Kylo is pleased to see that he is simply rusty, there’s no lack of skill on the emperor’s part. Good, he can work with that. His goal is to never be so far away that he can’t come to Hux’s defense, but the general-turned-emperor is no damsel in distress. He just needs to be reminded of the fact.

Also becoming apparent is the flush crawling down Hux’s skin, starting at his face and creeping past his shoulders and down his chest. No matter how many times Kylo tries to jerk his eyes away they gravitate back to the rosy, glowing skin, cataloguing the blotches of red and scatter of freckles across his torso and committing them to memory.

“-and besides, you’re not listening to me anyway so what’s the point?”

Kylo’s eyes jerk up, wide and guilty. “What?”

“I was saying that I’d like to be done,” Hux repeats, eying him. “I’m not being dramatic when I say I have little time for sleep lately, I’d like to get at least a few hours in before I’m needed somewhere.” 

For a moment Kylo chews at his bottom lip, debating the request. “One more go, and then I’ll let you return to your quarters.” 

“Let me?” Hux snorts. “I’m the emperor, I don’t need your permission.” Still, he’s returning to the mat and taking his place at the center, letting Kylo do the same. It takes a moment for either to make a move. They’re beginning to learn each other’s fighting styles, and neither is a fool. Hux is waiting for Kylo to strike and show his weak spot. Kylo is waiting for Hux’s anger and frustration and weariness to get the better of him and force him into a foolish move. It ends up paying off for Kylo. Hux is too eager to go. He makes a quick jab towards Kylo’s side, and it’s easy enough for Kylo to grab him by the arm, twist it around and hold it behind his back. He brings his other arm up to hook around Hux’s throat, holding him in place.

“Tsk, your highness. You are awfully rusty,” Kylo says, voice low as he smirks his victory into the back of Hux’s head.

Hux doesn’t respond. Instead he goes stock still, practically holding his breath as Kylo holds him in place. No request to be released, no attempt to wrestle free...just an odd sort of stillness that takes over the muscles in his body. Kylo would ask after his odd behavior but his own body has begun to betray him; he feels something hot and curious unfurl low in his stomach, sending a shiver up his spine. He realizes that Hux is breathing heavily - they both are.

Kylo forces himself to let go, stepping back. “Your highness.”

When Hux turns he’s got an eerily cheerful look on his face and his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. “That’s enough for tonight then, don’t you think? Thank you for the ah...training session, Lord Ren. I’m sure it will be a great help in the future.” He walks over to his belongings with long strides, quickly yanking his boots and shirt back on. Hux straightens himself out as best he can before leaving the training room in a whirlwind of movement.

Kylo is left standing on the mat, dazed and breathless and unsure what this heat burning inside of him could mean.

**

He spends most of the next day and all of the next night thinking about the odd moment at the end of their sparring session. What bothers him most is that it shouldn’t have been awkward at all. Nothing was said, no hasty or improper advances were made. But he could _feel_ it. Coursing through Hux and reciprocated through his own body was something he hasn’t felt in so long, something he’d learned to ignore so it wouldn’t get in the way of his training. 

Kylo sucks thoughtfully on his bottom lip, running his palm over his bare chest. His body sparks at the touch as if eager to once again be explored in such a base way. Between his legs his cock stirs, spurred on by the memory of Hux’s flushed skin and the way he stilled and _submitted_ when Kylo had a hand to his throat. Someone like Hux relinquishing power, waiting for Kylo to make the first move...with a soft sigh he reaches down, squeezing his swiftly filling erection through his pants. 

There is a knock on the door. Kylo yanks his hand away, scrambling to sit on the edge of the bed as if someone might burst in and find him pleasuring himself like an untrained teenager with no self-restraint. He allows himself a few cooling breaths before standing and opening the door. The emperor stands waiting on the other side, and for a terrifying moment Kylo worries that he’s projected his thoughts in some way and called the other man to him.

“Hux?”

If he thought Hux looked tired before it’s nothing compared to now. He looks like a piece of paper held up to a bright light, hazy and transparent. The circles under his eyes are like dark bruises smudged against pale skin. Most shocking of all, his hair has fallen out of its usual perfect style. He looks almost dishevelled. 

The emperor nods politely, hands tucked into his pockets. If he notices Kylo’s flushed skin he doesn’t comment on it. “May I come in?”

Kylo quickly moves aside, making room in the doorway for him to enter. “What’s wrong, has something happened?”

“No, nothing,” Hux says, offering a half-shrug. “I was taking a tour of the ship to make sure everything is in working order. I saw the hall leading to your quarters and thought - I hope I haven’t been presumptuous…”

“You haven’t,” Kylo says simply, sitting on the edge of his bed. Hux takes the chair at the table, sitting as he ever does; spine straight, legs crossed at the ankle. He holds his posture for a moment before practically melting, letting his feet fall apart and his back slouch. This is the first time Kylo has seen him drop form. He finds himself asking a question without really thinking it through. “You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Hux laughs, though it’s devoid of any true amusement. “Well spotted, Lord Ren. I’m managing a few hours a night I think, the rest of my time is spent going over plans or scheduling appearances or just...existing.”

“It’s funny, I thought you would have wanted this. You’ve always been eager for power, to be emperor is as good as it could possibly get for anyone in the order.”

This earns Kylo a look that makes him feel like a child who’s asked a foolish question, one the adults can’t bother to respond to with sincerity. “I’m a puppet, Ren. While I trust Leader Snoke implicitly we’ve got to agree that I’ve been put in a completely useless position. I can’t even command my men anymore, they’ve promoted someone to General under me and I can’t exactly sweep him out of the way and take over. My current job expectations are ‘charm the people’ and ‘don’t get killed.’” He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I grew up dreaming about this. Knowing that I was meant for something great. Now it feels like some great joke is being played on me, ruler of all yet ruler of none.”

Kylo watches him, letting the emotion of his words sink in. He lets himself do something he swore he wouldn’t - he reaches out with the Force, testing the edges of Hux’s thoughts, just barely dipping his fingers into his mind to see what lies deeper.

_-so tired_

_if only i could sleep_

_wonder what his hair feels like, is it as soft as it looks?-_

Kylo draws back, hoping he doesn’t look as startled as he feels. He flings out the first question he can think of to change the subject.

“What’s your name? Your real name.”

Hux looks over from his seat, absently tracing patterns into the surface of the table with his fingertip. He considers Kylo for a moment - the gaze makes him feel naked, like the general can see right through him and pick out every dark, sick thought that has ever swirled around in his mind. When he speaks it’s with a wariness that belies the lack of trust between them. “Brendol. I’m named for my father.” His eyes never leave Kylo’s face. “And yours?”

It takes a moment for Kylo to decide how to answer. He knows that to most people the simple answer to the question would be the name assigned to him at birth. That’s not him, though. That boy died, reborn like a phoenix from the ashes of the younglings he killed. That’s not the answer Hux is looking for, though. Hux, with his slate blue eyes and impossibly pink lips, his sharp mind and secret sense of humor. His emperor has asked him a question and the knight will answer as he is bidden.

“Ben. I was born Ben Solo.”

Hux tilts his head, considering. His lips are pursed, cheekbones as sharp as a blade-tip in the dim light of the room. He smiles, and Kylo’s throat constricts as if Hux himself can wield the Force to choke the life out of him. “Ben, hmm? You were right to change it, Kylo suits you so much better.”

The compliment - is it a compliment? - knocks the air from his chest. He twists the blanket in his fists and swallows hard. 

“Thank you.”

Hux nods, and for a moment they fall into a deep silence. He seems lost in his thoughts, still drawing little swirls and circles across the table as Kylo himself is lost in watching him do so. It’s oddly comfortable. There’s no one to be and no one to put on a show for, each man sitting with the only other person who knows who he truly is under the character that’s been created for him.

Kylo is the first to break the silence. “Why did you come? Tonight, to me.”

Hux startles slightly at the question, eyes wide in the dim light as he stares deliberately down at the table. It’s a long moment before he answers, and when he does there’s a challenge in his voice - almost as if he’s daring Kylo to mock him for his moment of weakness. “I couldn’t sleep and I was lonely,” he said plainly, glancing over out of the corner of his eye. “Quite frankly you’re the only one in this whole galaxy I could call an acquaintance, and I just...knew you’d be up somehow. I could feel it.”

For a moment fear prickles along Kylo’s spine as he wonders if Hux knows just what he was up to before he came. It doesn’t seem so, and he manages to relax. “I can’t say it’s expected, but I’m happy to serve my emperor in any way I can.”

Hux laughs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. “It’s funny, I can’t tell anymore if you’re mocking me when you say that.”

“I’m not,” Kylo says simply.

This seems to fluster Hux, who stands and smooths out his shirt. “Well. I appreciate it, Ren. I will let you get back to sleep though, tomorrow is going to be busy for both of us.” Hux is set to speak at a series of appearances along the Ahakista System, and his team already has their work cut out for them trying to hide the bags under his eyes. While nothing concrete has slipped to them both men suspect there might be another attempt - this time staged by the Order - to show off the sort of power Kylo wields. It worked all-too-well on Coruscant. Whispers have spread far and wide about the Emperor’s Knight, who can hold a blaster beam in midair without breaking a sweat. 

Kylo groans, flopping back on his bed. “Don’t remind me. I can’t wait for this nonsense to die down.”

“Trust me, neither can I.” Hux stands, stretching out before moving to the door. He stops just shy of leaving, glancing over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Ben.” He’s smirking, a spark lighting his eyes that has been mysteriously absent since he took on his new role as emperor. For once Kylo isn’t filled with a blind rage at his former name - he simply smirks back, nodding his head.

“Sleep well, Brendol.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh it's been a battle getting this one out between flus and oral surgery and work and tattoos. TAKE IT. I'M GOING TO BED.
> 
> Tumblr [here](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

Over the course of three months Kylo decides with absolute certainty that fundraising dinners are the worst part of his new position. He isn’t programmed to handle such pettiness and frivolity. Beyond that the guests either fear him or view him as a novelty, leaving him with nothing to do but watch Hux charm the room as Kylo hovers awkwardly over his left shoulder.

And charm Hux does. Tonight he’s dressed as casually as he can get away with, having ditched his tunic and cape for more comfortable attire. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled to his elbow, his black trousers hugging his hips in a way that draws Kylo’s eyes down again and again no matter how he tries to fight it. On top of that is a blood red vest tailored precisely for him and shoes that he’s had polished to a near-impossible shine. His hair is falling out of its normal slick style, though the thin circlet of white gold is perched on his brow as it ever is. Kylo hates to admit it, but he looks radiant. 

Kylo himself feels like he’s been dressed like a child’s doll for the event, even if his own outfit is nowhere near as regal or eye-catching at Hux’s. He’s gotten away with a sleek black tunic that brushes the tops of his thighs and breeches tucked into his boots, a cape much like Hux’s draped over one shoulder instead of his cloak. It’s all his customary black, though the insignia of the First Order is embroidered onto his breast in a deep, striking red. They’ve even got his hair pulled back into some ridiculous looking, complicated knot at the base of his skull. He feels almost naked without his cloak and his curtain of hair but Hux swore the event was too high-class to stomp around like a dramatic crow and scare all of the guests. Dramatic crow. Hux’s words.

“The people are beginning to respect you,” he’d said placatingly in an attempt to drown out Kylo’s vicious protests, hands on Kylo’s shoulders as he met his eye. The simple touch and eye contact had made Kylo near-breathless, a fact he was loathe to remember and unwilling to examine too deeply. “I’m not going to make you chat them up, but you do need to seem at least a bit more approachable.”

When did he lose the ability to say no to that ginger-haired monster?

Said ginger-haired monster is currently approaching him with a glass of wine in his hand, his third by Kylo’s count. Kylo has to be careful, four seems to be the magic number between “charming but professional emperor” and “tipsy ewok on Life Day.” There are just too many opportunities lately for people to ply Hux with expensive wine as they slip him their ideas for how the galaxy should be run. Too many hands have strayed along the gentle curve of Hux’s back to rest on his hip as old men and young women whisper their proposals into his ear, too often has Kylo had to step close and narrow his eyes, sending them away with a well-placed suggestion and a wave of his hand. Hux tries to hide his grateful looks, often behind another glass.

“You’re on three,” Kylo murmurs, voice low so as not to be heard by the people nearby. He shoots a pointed look to the drink in Hux’s hand. “Pace yourself.”

“Of course, mummy,” Hux snorts, taking a slow sip. “If I know you you’ve gone probing into the mind of everyone here, and since no one is dead I’m assuming there aren’t any conspirators. Why don’t you relax for once?”

Kylo folds his arms, looking over the crowd. “You’re relaxing enough for the both of us. I can’t afford to let my guard down, there have already been three attempted assassinations in as many months. How can you be so flippant?”

“I can’t imagine you could possibly understand the importance of pleasing the crowd,” Hux snorts, casting a glare at the people filling the room. They seem surrounded by a sparkling sea of dresses and formal attire, people laughing and dancing and discussing the Order’s latest victories.

Hux waves a dismissive hand. Did Kylo lose count of a glass somewhere during the night? “Anyway, you won’t let them touch me.” The sentiment is meant to be a simple statement of fact, but there’s something hidden underneath that Kylo can’t help but pick at. Hux says it with such certainty - he feels safe with Kylo here. He trusts him. Before he can help it Kylo has reached forward, once again brushing against the edge of Hux’s mind-

- _the only one here worth talking to anyway_

_wonder if he knows how to dance_ -

-Kylo quickly withdraws, reaching forward and plucking the glass from Hux’s fingers. “No more wine,” he says, scowling. “You need to keep yourself sharp. If not for your own safety then at least for the benefit of winning these fools over.”

“It’s so strange,” Hux says, hands on his hips.

Kylo doesn’t really want to know, but he has to ask. “What is?” They’re approaching something Kylo has tried so hard to avoid. He can see it in the way Hux is staring at him, can feel it in the energy that travels in a circle between them. Throughout this circus he’s been polished and preened and moulded into something he’s not. He’s let his emotions and a strange sort of attachment to Hux get in the way of his true purpose more than once, let them distract him from his true intentions of finding the girl and the traitor and ending the Jedi once and for all. 

And now he’s afraid that Hux has caught on.

“Having you care,” Hux continues, confirming Kylo’s fears. “You try to scowl and snarl through everything like you used to, but you’re different now. Not quite as unapproachable as you were. It’s quite nice, you should try being personable more oft-”

Before Hux can finish his sentence Kylo has him firmly by the bicep, dragging him out of the dining room and into an abandoned hallway. He’s got to end this, to stamp out this ember before it can light into a proper flame. He pushes Hux roughly against the wall, leaning in until they’re mere inches apart. 

“I don’t want you to make any false judgements about what we are,” he hisses, teeth grit. “I’m not your friend and I certainly don’t enjoy having to babysit you while you drink yourself stupid and flirt with half of the known universe to get people on your side. I don’t give a damn what you do to your liver or if you get drunk and make a fool of yourself at parties.” He drags Hux forward before once more pushing him against the wall, something dark and satisfied gripping his heart as blue eyes go wide. “I’m under orders from my Master to keep you safe, no matter what I think of you. So get your act together and behave like an emperor might.”

There is a moment of silence where his words settle between them like a thick and heavy smoke, obscuring and choking the life out of everything. Hux’s eyes narrow as he bares his own teeth. The connection between them grows thin to the point of snapping clean in two. “Let me go, you over-excitable jackal.” Hux twists his arm out of Kylo’s grip, getting both palms on his chest and pushing him firmly away. “I don’t know what I was thinking, letting myself believe there might be an actual human underneath somewhere. No matter what you think of me, I’ll remind you that I’m your _fucking emperor and you will not touch me_.”

When Kylo draws back he moves to rejoin the party, but not without one last jab thrown over his shoulder. “And Ren? You’re an absolutely terrible liar. You can deny it all you want, but there’s no hiding that you like me. Idiot.”

*

Everything is burning down around him. The walls of the Finalizer, built with endless, impenetrable steel, glow red hot as fire licks through the halls of the ship and consumes all it touches. Kylo knows this all so well by now. He knows how the metal feels against his fingers as he scratches desperately to get out, knows the taste of smoke and ash on his tongue and he screams in helplessness and rage.

He’s on the wrong side though. Instead of trapped within he’s locked out, clawing for something just out of reach.

_“Kylo!”_

He shoots out of bed, the bitter taste of fear sharp on the back of his tongue. It consumes him like the fire consumes his dreams; normally he can shake this agitation as soon as he’s up, but now it clings to him like a film that won’t peel away. It’s Hux, he knows it is. He can feel the connection to him like a thin wire pierced through his heart, tugging him in the direction of the man he only hours ago pushed away as he denied any sort of growing bond between them. 

Another stab of raw fear, this time dragging him out of bed and to his wardrobe to drag on clothing. A pair of pants is enough, the drawstring barely tied as he runs out of his own quarters and races through the near-empty halls of the Finalizer. While there are few people about he does dart past one or two Stormtroopers that look at him in confusion. Thankfully they know better than to get in his way as he races towards the other end of the ship. Soon he’s standing before Hux’s doors, reaching out with the Force to tear them violently open and then to slam them shut behind him.

Hux is already sitting up in bed, roused by the noise of Kylo’s forced entry. He’s so much paler than usual, skin lit only by the dim glow of his still-running datapad sitting open on his desk. His chest heaves, skin slick with sweat and eyes wide. “Ren, what are you-”

Immediately Kylo crawls into the bed, taking Hux’s face firmly between his hands and meeting his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“What? No, I’m perfectly fine.” Despite his words there’s a sour tinge of fear surrounding them, made even more blatant by the way Hux trumbles. Kylo can _feel_ everything the emperor is feeling. Beyond knowing the dream himself he can feel his thoughts and emotions synching with the man before him, tying Hux to him in a way he can no longer deny.

His own arms shake as he reaches forward, carefully gathering Hux into a tight embrace. It feels strange; he can’t help but feel self-conscious about it, it’s been a long time since he’s held anyone. Still, he can feel the way Hux tenses and then goes limp, can feel how his shivering subsides against the warmth of Kylo’s body.

“You dreamt of fire,” Kylo says softly, holding his breath as Hux’s hands slowly lift to his shoulders. “I could see it. Feel it. I’ve had the same dream, so many times.”

Hux is silent for a moment, turning this knowledge over in his head. “So you can see my dreams now?”

“It would appear,” Kylo frowns, cataloguing the silken texture of Hux’s hair against his cheek. It’s getting longer; without wax it hangs down to brush sharp cheekbones, just the right length for falling in his eyes with no crown to hold it back. “Do you have the same dream often?”

“Every night,” Hux confirms, laughing darkly. “Why do you think I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in months?”

It makes sense. The dark shadows under Hux’s eyes, the slow wasting that’s set upon him since before the coronation. It explains why this dream of fire has burned its way into his own mind, projected from Hux’s. Kylo isn’t sure why he’s been picking up on it so clearly, but it explains why something that’s no real fear of his keeps invading his thoughts. Hux built the Starkiller from the ground up just to have it destroyed by those rebel bastards, to see the Star Destroyer burn down around him would be quite the blow after that. The emperor runs on order and control. Fire can’t be organized.

“I’d wondered,” Kylo says lamely. He’s unsure of how to comfort someone, all of his years of training have been in skills that accomplish the exact opposite. “Do you...feel better now?”

Hux makes a sound that may or may not be a laugh, pressing his face against Kylo’s neck. His breath huffs out softly over naked skin and Kylo can’t help but think of the night in the training room. They haven’t trained again since then. In fact they’ve touched very little, the only real contact they’ve had being when Kylo grabbed Hux earlier that evening. 

“I do, oddly enough,” he says, trying to keep his voice bland and disinterested. “I can’t for the life of me understand why, but your presence soothes me. I suppose if there are going to be monsters I might as well have them on my side.”

Kylo doesn’t understand his own actions as he pulls back, cupping his hand lightly around Hux’s throat and using his thumb to tilt his chin up. He studies his face, the world seeming to still around them. “You don’t really think I’m a monster.”

“No. I should, but I don’t,” Hux says, voice soft between them. He meets Kylo’s gaze head on. Never scared, never shying away from the challenge Kylo presents. Hux is an immovable force, an act of catalogued and categorized destruction. He is everything Kylo isn’t: seemingly dispassionate, cold, patient. Yet somewhere, deep under the surface, is a tempest that maybe Hux himself can’t figure out how to tap into.

Kylo kisses him, letting himself taste that untested fountain of recklessness and desire.

It’s surprisingly calm, much more gentle than what Kylo pictured in the rare moments that he’s let himself fantasize about this. Hux’s lips are warm and soft as they press to his own. There’s no moment of protest or uncertainty, as soon as their mouths mold together they are dragged under by whatever it is they’ve been holding back for the past three months. Perhaps longer. Kylo has always felt a nameless passion for Hux that he’d thought was hatred, had it been this intense hunger all along?

Hux’s lips part, the sweetness of his tongue sliding along Kylo’s. Their mouths open against each other, breath shared between them as they attempt to devour and possess. Kylo thinks vaguely of their current state of undress; he’s in nothing but a flimsy pair of pants, and he’s not entirely sure if Hux is wearing anything at all under the sheets that cover his hips. As soon as the thought crosses his mind he’s hungry to find out. Pulling away, he lets his eyes flicker down Hux’s body.

“Are you…” he murmurs, sucking on his bottom lip. It takes Hux a moment, but as soon as he realizes what Kylo is asking his usual boldness takes over. With an arched eyebrow and a slight smirk he grabs the sheet and drags it away, revealing nothing but slim hips, pale thighs, and a half-hard cock nestled against his thigh. Kylo swallows hard, forcing his eyes back up. “Ah.”

Leaning in, Hux trails feather-light kisses along Kylo’s jaw. He seems to be taking his time, feeling the roughness of slightly-stubbled skin over his lips as he nuzzles a kiss into the hollow of Kylo’s throat. He’s so unselfconscious, bothered little by his nudity despite Kylo remaining covered. 

“Do you really wish to serve your emperor, Lord Ren?” Hux asks with a gentle sigh, taking Kylo’s earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently.

Kylo is near-dizzy from the light touches, as unused to physical affection as he is. He drinks in every caress, every brush of lips, his own prick stirring and beginning to lengthen as he’s lost to Hux’s touch. “Yes…” It’s barely a hiss of breath, he’s too eager to dedicate energy to words. He needs to know what Hux wants, he needs to serve him.

“Then help me sleep. Wear me out.” While Hux’s words are spoken like a challenge there’s no hiding the plea underneath. He’s tired. He’s lonely. They’ve danced around each other since the day they met, and now there’s an opportunity to consume. Hux wants. 

With a firm push Kylo has him lying back on his pillows, eyes wild as curtains of dark hair frame his face. “I don’t know how to be gentle,” he chokes, hands trembling as he strokes them down Hux’s chest.

“I wouldn’t have you gentle,” Hux snorts, fisting his hands into Kylo’s hair and yanking him down for a kiss. With a helpless groan Kylo meets him with a frenzy he’s been struggling to hold back, claiming Hux’s mouth as he lets his hands skirt across naked skin. Their teeth click together with the fury of their becoming; it’s romance, in a way, for the likes of them. Their tongues wrestle together as Hux pulls and tugs at his hair, trying to bring Kylo closer despite the impossibility of any less space between them. Kylo takes Hux’s thin hips in his large hands, gripping hard enough to bruise. Please, let him bruise. He wants to see the marks, the possession, for days to come. 

After a moment Kylo pulls away, dark eyes sweeping over Hux’s face. The emperor looks lazy in his pleasure, eyes heavy lidded as he sweeps a hand over his own stomach. He’s thin, so impossibly thin - has he always been this willowy and light, or has he lost part of himself in the past few months? Kylo brushes the thought aside as he leans down to kiss sharp collarbones. He nips sharply, again trying to leave his claim behind. 

“You’re marking me,” Hux hums lazily. Without looking Kylo can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I am,” he agrees. His response is simple, but what else does he need to say? He knows what he wants, what he desires. He is a mindless creature of impulse. There’s no use denying it.

As he works his way down Hux’s body he makes a point to leave a trail of bruises and marks as he goes, each spot standing out in livid clarity against Hux’s pale skin. By the time Kylo is hovering over his groin his skin is dappled in blues and purples and sickly looking greens. It’s lovely, like the modern art that Kylo never learned to appreciate. He thinks that maybe, now, he understands it. The importance and perfection of something so visually appealing yet impossible to understand.

Hux laughs, a sharp sound in the darkness. “Will you quit thinking and suck my cock?”

Kylo shoots him a well-deserved scowl before ducking back down. While he wants to take his time, to stroke and tease and explore, that is not what they have between them. Hux is using him for a release, Kylo little more than a tool to bring his emperor calm and clarity. He is the blunt instrument of the First Order.

With that thought in mind he ducks down, wrapping his fingers around the base of Hux’s length and swirling his tongue around the crown. The feedback he gets is immediate and satisfying. Hux groans low in his throat and arches, spreading his thighs wider to allow Kylo room to work. It’s surprising to see him submit so willingly, even to pleasure. Kylo rewards it by wrapping his lips around the head, sucking firmly.

“I...I didn’t expect you to be good at this,” Hux breathes, sinking his teeth into a flushed and bruised bottom lip.

Kylo pulls off with a wet pop of his mouth, raising an eyebrow. “Your pillow talk is atrocious.” When Hux laughs he can’t help but crack a begrudging smile, returning to his task. As he takes Hux’s length into his mouth he lets himself appreciate the weight and firm press of a cock against his tongue. It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone. There’s no real reason; he simply hates most people he meets and can’t imagine being naked with them.

And Hux...he used to hate Hux. Does he now?

Push the thought away, focus on the task at hand, and please the emperor.

Groaning slightly, Kylo relaxes his throat and allows Hux’s length to slip deeper. The air crackles and buzzes with a sort of electric charge, a common occurrence when he’s focused on a task and the Force flows through him unchecked. He closes his eyes and sucks firmly, pulling nearly all the way off before plunging back down. With a broken cry Hux reaches up to fist his hair, toes curling against the sheets.

_-Kylo_ -

Kylo is so shocked that he almost pulls off, losing his rhythm. Hux isn’t exactly quiet - he moans and cries freely to express his pleasure - but it’s the first time he’s heard his own name fall from parted lips. It takes him a moment to realize he didn’t hear it at all, that somehow, unconsciously, Hux has slipped past some barrier in his mind-

_-Kylo!_ -

He moans and redoubles his efforts, his technique sloppy but enthusiastic as he does everything he can to increase Hux’s pleasure. To hear his own name in that voice, unintentional as it may be. Bringing his hand up, he cups Hux’s sac to tease and caress in time with his frantic mouth. He needs to make him come, needs his pleasure. He can feel Hux’s desire coursing through him as if his own, teasing his own arousal and driving him on.

“O-oh, I’m...I’m going to…”

_Say it,_ Kylo begs silently, slurping and licking and sucking at Hux’s rigid shaft. _Say it, please…_

With a gasp Hux tenses, one hand yanking violently at Kylo’s hair as he bucks up into the wet heat of his mouth. “Fuck! Kylo, fuck!” he cries, and Kylo could nearly sob at the sound of it. As Hux spills onto his tongue he swallows every drop given like nectar passed to his lips. Soon he’s pulling off and they’re both breathing heavily, the sound of their laboured breaths filling the darkness around them.

“Come here,” Hux slurs, beckoning him close. “I’ll reciprocate.” 

Kylo shakes his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Hux shoots him a confused look. “No. You need to rest. I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t need a pity fuck, doesn’t want Hux reciprocating just to be polite. This was in service of his emperor and he doesn’t need a thank you.

Hux shoots him a curious look, lips quirking up into a smile. “You’re a strange beast, Lord Ren.”

A beast indeed. Reaching forward, Kylo lets his hand trace absently through Hux’s golden red hair before pressing the pads of his middle and third finger to his temple. “Sleep,” he commands, letting the suggestion flow through him and into the man below. With no resistance Hux’s eyes slide shut as he falls limp into the mattress.

His sleep will be dreamless. Kylo will see to it, guarding him through the night as he rests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* wieners.
> 
> Come join me on [tumblr](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


	5. Chapter 5

Kylo’s first thought upon waking isn’t really a thought at all, more like a vague alarm that comes when you didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place and you don’t immediately recognize where you are. He jerks up, hair fluffy and going in a thousand different directions, blinking around the bedroom as he tries to place where he is. There’s an artificial sun lamp starting to glow in the corner that casts a warmth across his surroundings. Things start to click into place as he notes the extreme tidiness of the room, the specific way everything is stored and catalogued throughout the space. He turns to the body he knows will be beside him.

The sight of Hux snatches the breath from his lungs.

The emperor sleeps on his stomach, blanket pulled low and just barely covering the swell of his ass. His back is a pale expanse of ivory dusted with freckles as numerous as the stars in the galaxy. Kylo has to strongly resist the urge to trace his fingers along the constellations of his skin. At some point Hux has pushed his pillow to the floor, sleeping instead with his head resting on his folded arms. Kylo is vaguely surprised. He expected Hux’s sleep to be just as regimented and precise as his waking life. Instead he’s sprawled easily over the mattress, one foot draped over Kylo’s shin as he makes up for all the sleep he’s lost these past three months.

Kylo lets himself think back to the past night, of servicing Hux, submitting fully to him to give his emperor the peace that’s evaded him for so long. He wonders vaguely if Snoke had anything like this in mind when he commanded their partnership. He’ll know soon enough, it’s not like it’s possible to keep any secrets from his master. 

“Mm. Ren?”

Hux stirs, turning with bleary eyes to the man beside him. His lips immediately curl into a lazy grin as he stretches out like a cat in a patch of sunlight. “I haven’t slept that well in ages. Did you sleep?”

Kylo reaches up, self-consciously smoothing down the mess that is his hair. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s probably better that you did. No one can get to me in here, you might as well rest.” With a groan Hux rolls to flop on his back, taking a moment before forcing himself to sit. He reaches over to his nightstand to pluck up a small black box and what looks like a spark stick.

“You smoke?” Kylo asks lamely, watching as Hux pulls out a cigarette and lights it with a satisfied hum. 

Immediately smoke curls out between pink lips, lips that curve into a lazy smirk. “I do,” Hux answers, tilting his head back as he blows a smoke-ring into the air. Show off. “Do you think less of me now? Well, if it’s even possible for you to think any less of me than you already do.”

Kylo doesn’t bother responding to that obvious bit of fishing. “I don’t care that you smoke. It just seems...out of character.”

Hux laughs lightly. “How so?”

It’s odd to have this conversation while Hux is still nude. He tries particularly hard not to let his eyes move to the softness of his thighs, or the slim plane of his chest and stomach. “You’re so precise. By the book. It seems base compared to how you handle yourself in all other aspects..”

“Well. I picked it up at the Academy mainly to piss off my father, and you know how habits go.” 

“Is your father still alive?” Kylo doesn’t know why he’s bothering to ask, but he’s curious to know more about this strange man next to him. 

Hux gives a nod, reaching a lazy arm over to ash his cigarette into a small crystal bowl on his nightstand. “Unfortunately. Commandant Brendol Hux the First,” he muses, eyes distant. “When I was young he taught at the Academy, had his own little secret club of cadets that he’d send on bizarre missions. Rule was, to be fully welcomed into the team you had to kill off another student and make it look like an accident.”

Kylo’s interest is piqued at the thought. “How did you do it?”

“Mm?”

“How did you kill the student?” Kylo asks, eyebrows knit.

Hux’s response is a laugh and another stretch. “Please. I was never invited, my father had no time for me. He used to tell me that inviting his own son would compromise the integrity of the group, make it look like he was going easy on me because we shared blood. The old bastard wouldn’t even know my name if it weren’t the same as his.” There’s no regret or bitterness in his voice, just a statement of facts. He’s not hurt by their lack of connection, he’s strengthened by it. “It helped when I graduated, though. No one made the mistake of claiming my promotions were thanks to my father, everyone knew full well how we felt. Rumor has it he’s not my real father anyway, so no real loss.”

Kylo can’t help but show his surprise. “How do you know?”

Hux looks over, offering a conspiratorial little smile. “Neither of my parents are ginger, but my father’s closest friend? I could be his spit.”

“I wish I had the same problem,” Kylo says darkly, smoothing his hands out over the blanket. “I’d give anything to not know where I’m from.”

Hux stubs out his cigarette in the little bowl, rolling onto his side to better face Kylo. “Well you took care of it, didn’t you? When you killed Han Solo on the bridge. There’s something to be said for facing your past and cutting it down, I imagine few men would have the strength to do so.”

“What about your mother?” Kylo asks quickly, eager to change the subject. If Hux realizes what he’s doing - which he surely does - he doesn’t comment.

“I quite like my mother,” Hux responds, running a hand through his messy golden-red hair. “She’s not so much my mother as she is a very close acquaintance that I prefer to sit with at dinner parties so we can make fun of the rest of the guests together. She’s got a sharp tongue.”

“Must be where you got it from,” Kylo mutters. Hux laughs, and he tries not to smile himself.

A sudden buzz of awareness fills Kylo’s head, straightening his back and sending him gasping to his feet. Hux looks worried as he crawls to the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand which Kylo quickly moves away from. “Snoke,” he says by way of explanation. “He wants to see me.”

Hux nods, curious yet wary. “It’s been some time since he called for you. I suggest you put on a shirt before you go see him. Take one of mine.”

It almost feels too intimate to share clothing, but Kylo doesn’t have the time to return to his own room to properly dress. He hates appearing before his master as anything other than a strong, solemn Knight of Ren, but he’ll have to make due. After a moment of rifling through Hux’s wardrobe he settles on a simple black tunic; it doesn’t really match the soft cotton pants he’d slept in, but Hux is slimmer and a bit shorter and the shirt looks like it will at least fit him.

When he turns Hux is lighting another cigarette. “Have fun,” he says casually, one arm wrapped loosely around himself as he sits against the headboard. “I’m sure I’ll be on the bridge when you’re finished. Don’t forget that we have a strategy meeting at fourteen-hundred.”

Kylo gives a small nod and leaves the room.

Minutes later he walks into his master’s chamber, dropping deferentially to one knee as the hologram of Snoke looms over him. Without a single word spoken or question asked he feels exposed, as if Snoke might slice into his brain and pluck out everything he’s done with Hux. For Hux. Still, he can’t bring himself to regret his actions. If he is to be a tool then let him be used, his orders were to follow Hux’s and he has obeyed.

“Supreme Leader,” he says, eyes lowered to the ground. “It is an honor to stand once more in your presence.”

Snoke considers him, head tilted to the side. “Kylo Ren, my child. A report on the progress of our plan.”

Kylo tries to ignore the dread that sits in his stomach like jagged stones, heavy, sharp things that rub together and click and rattle with every move he makes, every word he speaks. “Sir, the plan is progressing just as we’d hoped. Sympathy and public opinion grow steadily in regards to the First Order. I admit - begrudgingly - that General Hux is playing his part well.” He looks up, although he still avidly avoids Snoke’s gaze. “He has thoroughly charmed many of the residents of the colonized cities, the more the people see him the more they withdraw support of the Resistance. It is just as you predicted, he is a strong figurehead for them to rally behind. They find him...pleasant. Trustworthy.”

“Excellent.” Snoke steeples his fingers together, eyes distant as he considers what he’s been told. “And tell me, boy, has this temporary grandeur tempted him in any way? Tell me he is still as devoted as you…”

Confusion flickers across Kylo’s face at the question. “My lord?”

“General Hux is an ambitious man,” Snoke reasons. “You must keep a careful eye and be sure he does not come to desire a true crown rather than the one I’ve cast for him. I trust you implicitly, child. You are my strong right hand.”

As realization dawns the dread in Kylo’s stomach turns into a genuine panic. “No my Lord, General Hux is ever loyal to you and our cause. He performs his duties well but has no presumptions about betraying you. I swear it.” He can hear how quickly he speaks, how his voice pitches upwards as he makes his claim. Snoke must hear it too, because there is a pause and then the sudden knowledge that someone else is viewing his thoughts from the inside.

It all flickers past like a holodrama; the day Kylo was told of his new role as the personal protector of Emperor Hux, the fight in the hallway after. He sees himself hunched over Hux’s body as he holds a blaster beam in midair, and then Hux gripping his arm to stem the flow of blood as they’re transported back to The Finalizer. Had Hux really looked so worried as they were escorted to the medbay? He sees the training room, state dinner after state dinner, speeches and meetings and every mundane moment where he waited in silence as Hux did paperwork at his desk.

And then there it is, Kylo kneeling over Hux as the emperor grabs and tugs at his hair, bowing for him in a way he’s never bowed for anyone else.

“Ren.”

“Master, I can explain,” he says frantically, head jerking up to finally meet Snoke’s eyes. 

“ _Silence._ ” Snoke’s voice is sharp as he cuts off Kylo’s excuses, but when he speaks there is an odd sort of tenderness in his voice. “I do not blame you, my child, but myself. You have gone so long with a singular focus on doing my bidding, and then I thrust you into the middle of the storm. But you must remember, whom do you serve?”

Kylo is kneeling once again, though he doesn’t remember falling. “You,” he rasps, throat dry. “I serve you. Master, you plucked me from hell and raised me to glory, and I will do nothing but honor you with my actions.”

Snoke takes a moment to consider this, prying through Kylo’s thoughts for the truth of his words. He must like what he sees, for he withdraws and chuckles deeply. “Good. Good, my boy. Return to your duties but keep this in mind. Only I can complete your training and help you resist the call to the light, only I can help you realize your true power.”

“Yes, Leader Snoke,” Kylo whispers, dazed. The hologram before him flickers and disappears, and Kylo collapses to the cold stone floor of the chamber.

It’s some time before he finds the strength to stand. He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying on the floor and he doesn’t care to, all he knows is that there’s an odd sense of loss in his chest that he’s never felt before. _This must be grief_ , he thinks sullenly. He does not know why he grieves or for how long the feeling will last, but he knows the aching pit in his chest is something that won’t be easily ignored. 

There is no time for self pity. With heavy feet he trudges to his quarters, changing into his usual robes. He debates for a moment wearing his helmet but it’s been so long, he’s worked hard to build his presence without it and he fears taking a step back. The thought of it alone feels constricting, like he might not be able to breath past the metal and thick plastic. He leaves it on its pedestal in his room before leaving for the command center.

Hux stands on the bridge as promised, hands tucked behind his back as he takes a report from one of his lieutenants. It’s a stark contrast to how he looked this morning, golden and soft in the artificial sunlight cast about his bedroom. Kylo once more feels the confusing ache of loss in his chest as he approaches the emperor, trying to keep his face an emotionless mask. Perhaps he should have brought his helmet after all.

Hux spots Kylo and smirks like they’ve got some sort of secret between them. For a moment Kylo feels a spark of rage in his chest, one he doesn’t fight off. Rage is better than sorrow. Sorrow is useless. They were not lovers and never will be, he has lost nothing.

“What did our ever wise leader want?” Hux asks, prim and pristine in his military uniform. He wears the circlet of gold because he has to, the rest of his outfit is everything he wore when he was merely a general.

Kylo looks out over the bridge, careful not to meet Hux’s eyes. “To discuss the success of this charade, and to remind me whom it is that I truly serve.”

He sees Hux turn slowly, can see his look of absolute horror out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t...tell me you didn’t tell him, you...you…”

“Do you forget the power our Master has?” Kylo snaps, eyes flashing. A few curious heads turn their way. It’s been some months since the two men fought, having forged an uneasy peace and a begrudging closeness. “Do you forget that he knows all, and doesn’t need to be told? He sees everything.” He opens and closes his fists, fighting to remain calm. “If you hadn’t-”

“If I hadn’t?” Hux exclaims, incredulous. When another group of heads turn he has the presence of mind to leave the room, grabbing Kylo by the arm and pulling him along. They end up in a conference room, the door shut and locked behind. “You came to me, remember?” he hissed. “I didn’t ask you to tear my door apart to wake me up from a simple nightmare, and I didn’t ask you to kiss me.”

Kylo sneers, yanking his arm away. The urge to lash out is strong, so strong. He fights it down like bile in the back of his throat, stinging and sick. “Please, you were falling apart. It was the only way to get you to sleep so you can properly do your job. It’s not my fault you throw yourself at anyone with a few credits to their name but never follow through.”

Hux has the audacity to look genuinely hurt. “Where the hell is this all coming from? I thought we were past snapping at each other like schoolyard bullies?”

This time Kylo does lash out. He grabs Hux by the throat, yanking him so close that their faces are mere inches apart. “I know my place. I know I’m a tool to be used by the emperor to keep him safe and alive. But I also know who my real master is. You’ll do well to remember it as well.” He lets go of Hux’s throat, watching with a sick satisfaction as he crumples to his knees and gasps for air. Before another word can be exchanged he turns and stalks out of the room, leaving the bridge altogether to find peace elsewhere.

*

Two weeks pass before Hux speaks to him again, and only to clear a trip down to Hoth to look into old Rebel bases. Once the plans are made he is silent once more, careful not to look Kylo in the eyes or even stand too close.

*

Kylo finds the state dinners almost unbearable now. It’s one thing to watch Hux charm the room when he’ll brush by later and crack a joke about the quality of the attendees, it’s another thing completely to stand alone in abject misery as women with money and a desire for a powerful husband cling to the emperor’s arm and whisper sweetnesses into his ear. Hux seems to be taking it all in stride, courting the women one by one without so much as a glance in Kylo’s direction. Instead he smiles, and laughs, and drinks, and gains the enthusiastic favor of everyone in attendance. 

There’s one in particular who keeps circling into Hux’s orbit, a tall woman with aqua-blue skin and dark hair down to her rear. She wears a dress of sparkling black that makes her skin glow somehow, and every time Hux’s glass is empty she seems to appear with a new one. Hux seems delighted enough, chatting her up, letting her take his arm as they visit with other guests. Then the band starts playing and Hux leads her to the floor for a dance.

Kylo wonders if he could choke her to death without anyone suspecting him. Before he can test his talents he walks out of a large set of glass double doors and onto the balcony, desperate for fresh air.

Coruscant glitters around him like some large, bioluminescent creature, bright and always moving. Speeders race past as he peers over the railing to the ground below. He can’t see it, of course he can’t - the floor they’re on is well past the planet’s cloud cover, all he can see is a hazy blanket of soft white with the occasional dapple of lights coming from beneath. Still, being so high up is dizzying in a way that helps calm him and remind him of his small place in the universe.

He thinks of Hux, dancing just inside with that… _woman_. 

Kylo has no claim over the emperor. He knows this. In fact he has the least right to him, especially with everything that happened after his meeting with Snoke. He can’t help but wonder though how things might be though, if he were someone different. Would Ben Solo be able to get close to the man who carries himself like a blazing sun, glittering and golden and able to burn those around him with a careful glance? Would Ben Solo be free to marry, free to experience passion or love or anything other emotion Kylo has worked so hard to distance himself from?

He pushes the thought away bitterly. Ben Solo is dead, and if he weren’t he’d be as weak as his father. Useless and foolish and untrained and some sort of villain or crook. Maybe a simple farm boy with a lightsaber but no purpose in life, no one who would ever get close to the emperor of the First Order.

With a sigh he pushes his hand through his hair, letting the wind cool his face. Ah, well. His lot in life is not one of pleasure, of getting what he wants. He is a tool, and tools serve. With a deep breath he turns and walks inside.

The crowd continues to swirl and move about, the dance floor a cyclone of fabrics and the glitter of expensive jewelry catching light and reflecting it around the room. Kylo casts his eyes about, looking for Hux in the melee. He doesn’t seem to be on the dance floor, so he turns his attention to the cluster of tables nearby. The man is still nowhere to be seen.

A vague sort of anxiety prickles at the base of Kylo’s skull, the hair on the back of his arms standing as the muscles in his body tense. He moves silently about the room, eyes darting from person to person, looking for the familiar copper hair and burst of freckles that he’s come to know so well.

The aqua-skinned woman Hux had danced with before stands at the bar with a man of whatever species she is, drink in hand as she laughs at something he says. When Kylo stalks over she pretends not to notice him for a long moment, finishing what’s in her glass before she finally meets his gaze. “Can I help you?” Her voice sounds like cool water running over a riverbed, and Kylo is alarmed to find her completely mesmerizing. 

He clears his head, frowning. “Emperor Hux. Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, how should I know?” Despite her lovely voice the woman’s laugh is a nasty thing, cold and cruel. Even worse, when Kylo tries to delve into her thoughts he finds she’s trying very hard to keep him out.

Cold fury ignites within him like a wildfire. He grabs her roughly by the shoulder, the crowd nearby gaping and moving away as he yanks her close. “Think carefully,” he whispers, voice dripping with venom. “If you don’t tell me on your own I’ll take the knowledge from your mind and leave you dead on the ballroom floor. Where. Is the emperor.”

For a split second the woman considers her options, fear evident on her face as she searches Kylo’s eyes for the truth of his words. She must find it, because soon the information spills from her lips like a waterfall. “He was drunk. Some men led him to an elevator, I think they went up. I don’t know them, I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

Kylo has no time to search for the truth in her statement. He lets her go, turning and running through the crowd as fast as his legs will allow. As soon as he’s clear of the noise and excitement he closes his eyes, reaching out with desperation.

“Where are you,” he whispers, eyes shut tight. He can feel the Force flowing out of him, through him. “Come on you red-headed bastard, where are you…”

- _Ren_ -

Kylo gasps, eyes opening and head jerking up. He focuses in on his name, urging Hux on.

- _Ren you jealous, dramatic idiot, where are you?-_

“I’m here,” he whispers to no one, looking around frantically for the stairs. He finds the door, vaulting past and taking the steps three at a time. “Come on, keep talking, come on Hux…”

_-Up. Come up. All the way up…-_

Kylo obeys, pushing on despite how his legs tremble. His heart races in his chest, pushing him faster and faster. He silently curses this damned city and their need to build everything taller. He counts another fifteen flights before he’s at the top, pushing through a door and on to the roof of the building. 

Hux lays in a heap on the ground, trembling in the cold rain that falls around them. Two men standing a few feet off turn quickly, one pulling out a blaster and the other holding a particularly nasty looking vibrosword. They take a few steps closer to Hux, both weapons pointed towards his head.

“This doesn’t concern you, Ren,” the man with the blaster snarls. “We know you have no interest in this false king, go back inside and pretend you didn’t see anything. We’ll both win. You’ll be free of his dramatics and we’ll collect the bounty we’re owed.”

Kylo tilts his head to the side, holding his breath. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion; the wind’s howling stops, the rain slows, time grinds to a halt as he takes in the scene before him. With a groan Hux looks up, eyebrows knit. He isn’t drunk. This isn’t what drunk Hux looks like. They’ve slipped something in his drink. The realization fills Kylo with blind rage, his hands shaking as he points to the men.

“I’ll give you one chance to walk away,” Kylo says quietly. “I’m going to kill you anyway, but it won’t be as terrible as if you try to hurt him.” Energy crackles through him and he vaguely wonders if these two fools have ever seen the true power of the Force. They will. He’ll make sure of it.

The man with the vibrosword laughs, tilting his head and cracking his neck before repeating the motion on the other side. “Scary thing, ain’t he? Come on, let’s finish the job. I got places to be Zepp, we’re wasting time.”

Kylo decides he doesn’t have the patience for dramatics. With clenched teeth and narrow eyes he raises his hands, balling them both into fists and watching as the men begin to struggle against their invisible bonds. A sick sort of satisfaction takes hold of him. Stepping forward he drags them along, moving them closer and closer to the edge of the building. Fear. Blind, bitter panic, he can feel is coursing through them, strengthening him.

“Hux, can you hear me?” Kylo asks, calling over the wind. 

A low groan is his only response for a moment, then a thin voice calling back. “I’m going to have one hell of a headache in the morning.”

Kylo gives another soft push, watching as the men’s feet scrabble against the edge of the roof. “What would make you feel better? Seeing them drop, or seeing them choke?”

Another moment of silence. “Drop them.”

Kylo smirks and lets go.

Time seems to catch up to itself as he turns, rushing over to the man sprawled on the ground. Hux lets Kylo lift him, carrying him bridal style to the door and back into the stairwell. With a sigh he begins the long descent down, in no mood to find an elevator and deal with the people he might meet on the way. There will be a shuttle waiting for them on the twenty-third floor, once they’re safe and tucked away Kylo can make sure there are no further wounds.

“I told you, you drink too much,” he mutters, risking a glance at Hux’s face.

The emperor’s lips curl into a lazy, dazed sort of smile. “There’s my crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly one chapter left? When did we get here? Yeesh.
> 
> As usual, tumblr is [here](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)!


	6. Chapter 6

The medbay is a steady rhythm of sound and movement, always consistent no matter what side of the bed Kylo is on. It is rather odd to be sitting in a chair beside the cot rather than lying in it. He watches Hux sleep with baited breath, loath to even blink lest the emperor wake up while his eyes are closed. Droids and medics come and go, nurses check on the resting emperor, the night fades into day and then back to night once more, and still Kylo waits.

It must be near midnight of the second night when he hears footsteps approach. He doesn’t bother to turn, assuming a droid has come to take vitals.

“Lord Ren.”

He turns at his name, suddenly looking up at an impossibly tall woman with short blond hair and an unamused expression on her face. He can’t say he’s ever seen the face before, though he has heard the voice numerous times from under a shining chrome helmet. “Phasma.”

She nods, balancing a tray with one hand as she pulls a chair close with the other. “I assumed you’d be here. The medics say you haven’t moved, which I assume means you haven’t eaten.” She thrusts the tray at him before glancing at Hux. “Have they said anything?”

Kylo shakes his head, picking up a hard roll and taking a bite. He chews thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. “They say it’s just a matter of waiting. Whatever they slipped him wasn’t meant to kill, just to keep him dazed and out of it long enough to transport somewhere else. I assume when I showed up the plans changed and it became easier to finish him off. I wonder if their bodies made it all the way to the ground or if they hit a speeder first,” he muses darkly before taking another bite.

Phasma makes a noncommittal noise, pulling out a datapad and scrolling through. They sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks again, still looking at the screen. “Lord Ren, if I may be so bold...are you going to keep pretending you don’t care until you snap and kill either him, yourself, or the both of you?”

Kylo frowns, head whipping over to look at him. “Captain-”

“Sir,” she interrupts, finally turning her cold blue eyes in his direction. “Please don’t assume I’d be impertinent enough to care about your love life. I do, however, care about the operations of this Order. I also have an odd sort of fondness for Hux, we’ve known each other for quite some time. The more you two dance around each other the less we get done. So if you’d be so kind, get over yourself and do something.”

“Leader Snoke forbids it,” Kylo grits out, eyes flashing.

Phasma gives a bored sort of hum, shrugging one strong shoulder as she stands. “Pity. I think Hux has fallen quite in love with you, I was hoping it would work out for him.”

Her words hit like a blow to the solar plexus, but before Kylo can interrogate her - or even bolder, read her mind - she is gone. Kylo’s eyes immediately jerk back to Hux, his heart picking up speed in his chest. He has no way of knowing if Phasma is right. What’s more, what would it even matter if Hux _did_ care for him? They’re toxic for each other, one kindling and the other a spark always at risk of creating a flame. 

Kylo wonders offhand if he is the tinder or the flint. 

There’s no time to think it over, because on the bed Hux groans and turns his head slightly to the left. Kylo holds his breath and leans in, watching as iron-blue eyes flutter open and fix on his face.

“Phasma says you’re in love with me,” he blurts, unable to hold it back. 

Hux’s response is another groan, eyes fluttering shut once more. “I’m dreaming, right? At least it’s not the bloody fire dream again,” he rasps, voice creaky from lack of use. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days,” Kylo reports. He stands, picking up a glass of water from the nightstand and offering it to the man on the bed. It’s strange having Hux drink from a glass still in Kylo’s hands. It seems like such a small thing, yet it feels monumental. “Phasma has assumed operations of the ship until your return.”

“She’ll make general yet, if I have my way,” Hux says through a yawn, making a feeble attempt to sit up. Halfway through he decides it’s too much, lowering himself back to the mattress with shaking arms. “Did you really not know I’d developed a...fondness towards you? I thought you were supposed to be clever.”

Kylo scowls, sitting back down and folding his arms. “How would you expect me to have known?”

“Don’t you read minds?” Hux asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’ve made a point to stay out of yours. You’re a mess, I’m not sure I’d like what I saw.” He lets his eyes drift over Hux’s form, taking in the paler than usual complexion and how thin he looks under the standard issue medbay pajamas. It’s the first time in months Kylo has seen him without the circlet. “I thought…”

“A rare occurrence,” Hux hums, reaching for the water cup. He snorts as Kylo stands and plucks it up instead, once more helping him drink.

Kylo makes an irritated sound as he returns the cup to the table. “Could you...not speak for a moment? Please?” He sighs, sitting and hunching over. “I was told to serve you. However you needed. I thought that I was a tool to you and nothing more.” He holds up a hand when Hux once more opens his mouth to speak, eyes flashing. “I’m not trained in this. I’ve never been romantically inclined, and I don’t...I don’t know how to behave around someone I’m...fond of.”

Hux is finally silent, studying Kylo with curious eyes. This time when he makes an attempt to sit he succeeds, pushing himself up to sit against the wall behind the bed. He reaches a slim hand to Kylo, beckoning him near. “Come. Closer.”

Standing nervously, Kylo does as told and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He finds that regal, delicate hand slipping into his larger one. It’s an odd sensation. He’s never held hands for the thrill of it before, any affectionate touches have been a thing only imagined. It’s oddly nice, though he does worry his palms might start to sweat.

“I don’t know how to be kind to you,” Hux says slowly, eyes serious as they meet Kylo’s. “I don’t think I’ll ever be sweet or tender. It’s not my nature.”

Kylo blinks dumbly for a moment before responding. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you were.”

Hux laughs, a weak, tired noise that fills Kylo’s chest with an odd sort of light. Suddenly he finds the hand in his tugging him even closer. Their faces are inches apart, and Kylo notices with wonder that there are little flecks of gold in the blue iris of Hux’s eye. 

Hux smiles, closing his eyes. “He’ll kill us both for this.” Before Kylo can respond he presses forward, capturing him in a kiss that promises that if they go down, they’ll go down together.

*

Life is relatively quiet for the next week, as Hux is kept in the medbay for observation. Kylo makes a point to stay at his side. There’s not much for him to do anyway, with Hux out of commission he has no orders to act on, no emperor to protect. To fill their time they slowly but surely test the limits of their relationship. Both quickly find that they have no patience for idle small talk, that they’d rather sit in silence than force a conversation. Kylo finds that Hux is fond of reading. He has a collection of real books, paper things bound in leather that he strokes with loving fingers with every page turned. There’s no real theme to what he reads; a technical manual is just as good as fiction, and he can easily tuck away a book a day if left in silence to do so. 

Slowly Kylo lets pieces of his own personality slip out, the ones he’s worked so diligently to hide since Ben Solo died and Kylo Ren rose from his ashes. Every now and then he’ll even allow the fleeting shadow of a smile to flicker across his lips when Hux teases him or says something self-depricating. While Hux reads Kylo settles down with a bit of paper and a stick of charcoal, sketching the silent king as they grow more and more comfortable in each other’s presence. Every now and then there are games of dejarik; Hux beats him soundly every time, his tactical skills proving just as impressive from a hospital bed as they are in the command center.

They kiss, and allow themselves to touch casually, and when the medics come in Hux makes a great show of holding Kylo’s wrist as if to say _this is mine, and I don’t intend on letting him go_.

And then Snoke calls for Kylo once more.

It happens just as abruptly as the last time he was summoned. They’ve moved to Hux’s private quarters, the change in location signed off on by their chief medic to allow the emperor his rest in a more comfortable setting. One moment Kylo is meditating in total peace as Hux laments the lack of cigarettes during his recovery, the next he’s kneeling on the floor gasping and clutching his head in his hands. It’s different this time. He can feel Snoke’s rage, his fury at the knowledge of Kylo’s willing disobedience. It’s like a white-hot piece of wire inserted directly at the base of his skull, seizing his muscles and his mind alike. Snoke grips him for so long, holds him so tight, Kylo can’t shake loose no matter how he tries.

When he’s finally able to breath he looks up into the pale face and cold eyes of Hux. “Snoke.” 

“He’s here,” Kylo slurs, the remnants of the pain making his tongue sluggish and thick. “On the ship. He’s...he’s furious.”

Hux draws a deep breath, twisting his blanket in his hands before letting go. He swallows hard, giving a small nod. “Very well. Go to him. At least I got another five days out of it.” There’s a sad sort of acceptance in his voice. Kylo isn’t used to seeing Hux sorrowful, he would give his own hand to take the emotion away and never let him feel it again.

He stands on shaking legs, pushing his hair out of his face. “Can I...can I kiss you?” he asks, knowing it might be their last. When Hux reaches for him he leans down, pressing their lips together with a sweetness he didn’t really intend. Hux’s lips part easily, coaxing the kiss deeper, his hands sliding into Kylo’s hair and holding tight. As if he can keep him, keep this.

But too soon Kylo must pull away and face what he’s done. He strokes Hux’s cheek before turning and leaving the room, shutting the door and carefully locking it behind him.

*

The only way to put a fire out is to suffocate it completely. Give it too much air to breathe, too much space, and it becomes impossible to control.

*

His hands shake. All around him the room is painted with blood, the acrid tang of copper so strong that he can taste it without opening his mouth. As he draws a hand across his face he can feel the wetness, the slick oiliness of viscera left behind on his skin.

“What did I do?” Kylo whispers into the darkness, lightsaber gripped so tight in his hand that his fingertips have begun to go numb. “What did you do, you fool?” He can feel tears tracing lines down his cheeks, salty where they hit the corners of his mouth and seep past his lips. He looks at the carnage at his feet, gags violently, and forces himself away.

The corridor is blessedly silent as his feet carry him away from his wickedness, away from his passion and pride and to the only place he knows will offer him some sort of sanctuary. There is a wailing somewhere nearby. He realize with alarm that it is his own voice echoing off of metal walls and thrown back at him.

He can see the door just down the hall. His feet pick up speed, and before he can wave his hand to force the doors open they part of their own accord, light spilling out of the room to illuminate his trembling, blood soaked figure. He falls to his knees and cries out weakly, slamming his fists against the floor.

“Kylo?”

Hux stands in the doorway, a look of alarm on his face as he takes in the sight of his knight caked in gore. Before Kylo can speak he’s got him by the bicep, pulling him up and into the bedroom. The doors shut and lock behind as Kylo is deposited into a chair. “Kylo, what’s happened?” Hux asks urgently, kneeling before him and checking for any signs of injury. He sighs with relief when he sees that the blood doesn’t belong to Kylo himself. “Kylo. Tell me what’s happened. What have you done?”

Kylo can only look up, eyes full of fear. He can’t say it, can’t speak the words. Instead he reaches forward and touches Hux’s temple, letting the imagines pour thick and fast into his mind. Snoke shouting, and so much pain. His face full of rage. Threats against Kylo, easily born. Threats against Hux, and a violent realization about his own priorities and desires. Blood on the floor, on Kylo’s hands and robes and lightsaber handle, and the broken body of Snoke at his feet.

Hux draws back, eyes wide. “You. Killed him.”

“I’m sorry,” Kylo chokes, frantic. “I’m sorry. I struck out. I couldn’t let him harm you, it’s my duty to protect you.”

Before Kylo can rail on any further Hux has leaned forward and crushed their lips together in a violent kiss. His thoughts slam to a halt as if they’ve run headlong into a wall, the noise and screaming and pain in his head going silent as he focuses on the soft feel of Hux’s mouth and the slickness of blood shared between them. He moans and grips Hux’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer.

“Clever boy, do you see what you’ve done?” Hux pants, climbing into Kylo’s lap and stealing kiss after kiss. “Don’t you understand? You’re free! Free of his meddling, of his orders and abuse, you’re your own man now. Do you feel it Kylo?” His blue eyes, normally as hard and cold as flecks of ice, ripple with the golden warmth of water on the shore. He’s smiling wide, and in that triumphant grin it starts to make sense.

Without a word Kylo stands, lifting Hux and carrying him through the sitting room and into the bedroom. He deposits him on the bed, chest heaving as he works on undressing himself. Hux is more than willing to help. He’s fueled on by passion and pride as he reaches under thick robes to undo Kylo’s trousers and yank them down over his muscular thighs. As Kylo handles his tunic and boots Hux turns to undressing himself, and soon they are lying in the bed rutting together as their mouths collide like a comet crashing to solid earth.

“Clever boy,” Hux repeats with a moan, letting Kylo’s hair slide through his fingertips. They’re smearing blood between them, over their mouths and chins and necks as they kiss and bite in their frenzy, but neither cares. More than anything they seem to enjoy it, to revel in this bloodbath they’ve created. 

Kylo moans helplessly as Hux’s hand travels lower to grip his length, taking him in hand and stroking him until his cock is hard and long and dripping with precome. “Tell me you have lubricant, oil, something,” Kylo begs, sucking a dark bruise into Hux’s shoulder. 

Hux waves a hand absently towards his night table, eyes hungry as they watch the head of Kylo’s prick disappear into the tunnel of his hands again and again. “Top drawer,” he pants, rubbing his own length against Kylo’s thigh. He whines at the loss when Kylo pulls away to retrieve it, instead turning to stroking himself. “Hurry, Lord Ren. Your emperor doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” he teases, breath catching in a lovely little way as he slides his finger along the vein tracing the underside of his dick.

Making short work of retrieving the lube, Kylo tosses it on the mattress before leaning down to lick a path along Hux’s sternum. He nips and nibbles at his pale skin, reveling in every soft noise it draws from Hux’s lips. “Let me fuck you,” he gasps against the sharp jut of a hip. Hux is astoundingly slim, bones sharp under his skin, though there is a softness along his stomach and thighs where Kylo wants to bite and suck and leave his signature behind and replace it every time it starts to fade.

“On my back, or on my stomach?” Hux breathes, cock jerking against his belly and leaving a thin trail of precum.

“Back. Like this.” Kylo kisses his way back up, pressing their mouths together once more. “So you can dig your nails into my back while I’m inside you.”

Hux laughs, a sharp, lovely sound. “Ever the romantic,” he breathes, bending his knees and spreading his thighs apart. He bites his lip as Kylo slicks his fingers. “Tell me. Was he afraid, in the moment he realized you were going to kill him?”

For a moment Kylo’s breath catches in his throat, the images of the bloody affair flickering through his mind. He centers himself, bringing his hand down to run slick fingers along the cleft of Hux’s ass. “Yes,” he chokes, eyes growing darker at the memory. “He was terrified. That the dog he himself trained, beat and starved and abused to make it vicious and mad, was the one to turn on him in the end.”

“Did he...ah!” Hux hitches a breath as Kylo presses his middle finger in, slow enough to allow him time to adjust to the intrusion but quick enough for him to really feel it. “Did he know? Did he know that his vicious, violent attack dogs have found a way to tame each other?”

Kylo can’t help but laugh, settling at Hux’s side as he steadily fucks him open with his finger. He drinks in every sound, every emotion that flickers across Hux’s pale face, flushed now with deep reds that seep along his neck and past his chest. One finger is joined by a second and then a third, and soon Hux is gasping and clawing at the sheets as he rocks down against Kylo’s hand.

“Damnit Ren that’s enough,” he chokes, biting his lip hard. “I’m ready, do it, fuck…”

Obedience has become a second nature to him, but he finds his rebellious streak is too eager to rear up once more and make itself known. He crooks his fingers just so and smirks as Hux cries out. “But I’m so enjoying watching you _need_ me…”

Hux makes a noise, opening his eyes to glare. “I’m going to come and you’re going to be out of luck.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Kylo withdraws his fingers and slicks his cock, moving to kneel between Hux’s thighs. Hux has the strangest look on his face; Kylo thinks it might be love, but he’s so unused to the feeling that he can’t spot it very well. He leans down for another kiss as he hitches Hux’s hips up with one hand, using the other to guide his length as he pushes inside.

“O-oh...aren’t you big…” Hux groans, eyes heavy lidded as his body opens for Kylo’s prick. Kylo can feel himself flush at the flattery - it’s another thing he’s grown unused to. As he pulls back slightly to push back in he can feel Hux trembling below him, panting and clutching Kylo’s broad shoulders. He ducks his head down, mouthing along the side of Hux’s neck.

“Are you alright?”

Hux nods as he forces his eyes open. “It’s good,” he concedes. “Very good.”

Kylo nods. He’s overwhelmed by the pleasure but trying so very hard not to show it. Once he’s seated fully in Hux’s warmth he lets himself release the breath he’s been holding in, sliding his palms down Hux’s sides to grip those slender hips. “Alright?” he asks again, hair falling in his face.

Hux nods, reaching up to push the hair back from Kylo’s eyes. “More than. Move.”

Kylo obeys, starting with a slow rhythm as their bodies grow used to each other. It all seems too easy; after everything they’ve been through, everything he’s done, to find this sort of pleasure in another person seems almost like a trap. He’s overwhelmed by it. Hux doesn’t seem much better off, small noises falling from his lips every time Kylo drives in, nails digging into the scarred skin of his back.

“Do you know when I realized I...cared for you?” Hux breathes, forcing his eyes to meet Kylo’s. “Wh-when you were struck by the blaster meant for me. Seeing you bleed. Wanting to murder the man who did it myself.”

Kylo merely grunts, thighs tense as he gives a particularly hard thrust in.

“I did kill him, you know,” Hux whispers. “Later, after the interrogation was complete. In retribution.”

The cry that tears itself from Kylo’s throat is a broken, ragged thing. His head falls forward, hair obscuring his face and brushing against Hux’s skin. It’s getting to be too hard to brace himself on his hands so he drops to his forearms instead. It’s easier to kiss Hux this way, to drag his tongue along his skin, taste his sweetness.

Thin fingers wind into his hair, bringing his head up so Hux can once more meet his eyes. “Do you feel it, Kylo? We’re free now.”

Kylo’s climax slams into him like blaster fire, punching the air from his chest. He manages to bring his hand up, stroking Hux’s cock frantically as he spills inside of him. Hux must be fairly wound up as well - it doesn’t take him long to come, spilling into Kylo’s hand and crying his name to the ceiling.

It’s a good few minutes before they’re both breathing normally and Hux is able to force himself out of bed to retrieve a cloth to clean them up. “There’s so much to do in the morning,” he says wearily. “I’m eager, but I’m already exhausted. Let’s just pretend for the rest of the night like nothing’s changed, we’ll face reality in the morning.”

Kylo nods, waiting for Hux to take his place on his back before curling around him. As he holds Hux close Kylo can’t help but wonder what they are. Lovers? Partners? Something more sinister? It seems so small at the moment, just a spark to cup in his hands and nurse into a flame. He wonders though, if they might burn down the world together one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe we're here, that we've reached the end of this particular story in the life of Emperor Hux and his Crow. I can't begin to thank you all for the support you've shown me through the posting of this story. I always seemed to post this at night, and waking up to the comments in the morning always sent me off in the most amazing mood. I've become buds with so many of you on tumblr and I love it, thank goodness for Kylux bringing people together!
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> -Listen to Ever After and Astoria by Marianas Trench, mood-wise those always got me in a good place to work on this story.  
> -While my energy for the next month will go into getting ready for the Kylux Big Bang, you will absolutely hear more from this verse.  
> -I had the extreme honor of people doing fanart for this story! You can view pixiepunch's interpretation of the first assassination attempt [here](https://pixiepunch.tumblr.com/post/138606937582/that-vicious-vixen-pixiepunch-im-super-feeling), hydrajen's gorgeous portrait of Emperor Hux [here](http://hydrajen.tumblr.com/post/141813335237/our-emperor), and happyolivia's perfect rendition of wine mom Hux and his crow at a dinner party [here](https://www.instagram.com/p/BBvNv_CTgEn/). You guys are so talented, and I can't tell you what it meant to me that my work inspired your awesome talents. If I missed any let me know and I'll add them in!
> 
> I feel like Dorothy right before she clicked her heels to go back to Kansas, I can't believe this adventure is over! Thanks for joining me along the way <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to everyone in the Kylux tag on tumblr and how we freak out over the idea of Emperor Hux. [Come friend me and talk trashy sin boyfriends with me!](http://that-vicious-vixen.tumblr.com)


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